Hidden Tales From The Chamber of Secrets
by Polydicta
Summary: The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation. Brain-bleach recommended!
1. 01  Mrs Norris

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 1 - Mrs Norris**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 1 - Mrs Norris**

.

Note: Just a stupid idea that came out of reading a fiction featuring a typo on the word 'Petrified'.

.

Harry had left Lockhart's room and decided to walk off the stiffness of sitting for four hours writing replies to the popinjay's fan mail. He had bumped into Professor McGonagall as he climbed the astronomy tower and Professor Sinistra had seen him sitting in one of the windows watching the last, fading light of the sunset.

The clock chimed eight and he decided to head back to the common room, meeting Hermione at the foot of the stairs.

"Are you alright Harry?"

He nodded. "Yes, the ponce had me writing replies to his fan letters. I had to get rid of the ache of sitting for so long, and to get the stench of his damned after-shave out of my nose."

She giggled at his comment, knowing precisely what he meant. She appreciated, having seen the idiot in action, that he was just a self-publicist with an ego the size of an oliphaunt. They continued to walk in silence. A comfortable, companionable silence.

As they passed Dumbledore's old classroom he heard a pitiful wailing. Harry's heart lurched as he realised that someone's pet was in distress. Rounding the corner they saw a terrible sight.

There sat Mrs Norris, yowling and trying to remove the pink and lilac bows, her fur curled and fluffed. The cat's claw's were painted a vibrant red and her whiskers were curled and corkscrewed. Around her neck was a pastel pink collar encrusted with dazzling, iridescent, magical diamante. The creature bore toe-rings, anklets and bracelets and, for some inexplicable reason, a number of diamante ear-rings.

No matter what he thought of Mr Filch or his cat, he couldn't bear to see a creature so unnaturally used. He snatched up the poor creature and began to soothe it, telling Hermione to go and find a teacher and Mr Filch.

"What have you done to my cat, Potter? I'll kill you …"

Harry was sat with the now calm if exhausted pet on his lap.

"I … I … didn't …"

"Calm yourself Argus …"

Hermione had returned with Dumbledore just in time to see Harry being verbally assaulted.

"Mr Potter?"

"She's calmed down a bit now, Professor. She's not happy, but she's a bit less upset than when we found her."

He stood and handed the red-eyed cat to her master.

"It's alright Argus … she's not been harmed, she's just been prettified."


	2. 02  The Troll

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 2 - The Troll**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 2 - The Troll**

.

"Troll! Troll in the dungeon …"

.

The doors swung open again and in shambled a twelve-foot tall, dark brown creature wearing a rancid loincloth and carrying the trunk of a small tree as a club.

.

Suddenly, before anyone could react, the lights went out, and from somewhere, a single, intense beam of light illuminated the troll.

.

Then, without further warning, the troll went down on one knee, spread his arms and in deep, rich bass tones gave voice …

.

"_Mammy … How I love you, how I love you, my dear ol' Mammy …"_


	3. 03 The ReSorting Ceremony

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 3 - The ReSorting Ceremony**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 3 - The ReSorting Ceremony**

.

Harry Potter walked to the front of the Great Hall. He was almost becoming bored with having to re-do his life. This must be the fifteenth? Sixteenth time he'd been shunted back to before he came to Hogwarts.

.

His magic had travelled back with him each time and just continued to grow. This time around, he had been sent back to the age of three and had caused a few problems playing pranks using wandless magic. He didn't really care anymore, his magical core was now so powerful that he could (and had) apparated through the wards surrounding the most secure locations in the world.

.

Since he had been told the secret of many locations under the fidelius charm, he could remember where even places such as Grimmauld Place and Malfoy Manor were located.

.

Out of self-defence, Harry had learned the most rigorous of all forms of occlumancy, and had a mind as impenetrable as a neutron star. Now, however, he was supposed to either take his shields off-line or otherwise allow the hat into his mind. This worried him since he had maintained his shields in a ready state for nearly eighty years until his last death. He realised that he had forgotten how.

.

He sat on the stool and the hat was dropped over his head.

"Hmmm … interesting … it's not often I find a student with occlumancy. Hmmm … let's see then …"

Harry felt the intrusion past his outer layer of defences before he could say anything to stop the hat.

He felt the reflexive response, a mental attack that would shred most minds without further warning.

The sorting hat, a highly magical artefact unique in the world, a thousand years of tradition and insight into every alumnus of the school living and dead, simply exploded in a fireball of magic and millinery.

Harry's last thought as he died was, "oh shiiiii …"

.

.

Harry Potter woke up aching and weak, staring up at the underside of the stairs in number four Privet Drive …


	4. 04 Childish Powers

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 4 - Childish Powers **

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 4 - Childish Powers**

**.**

"So, Harry, what did you do as a kid to keep the bogeyman away?"

Harry potter, the Boy-With-No-Childhood looked blankly at his dorm-mate, Dean Thomas.

"Pardon?"

"You know, to keep the monsters away when ypou went to sleep?"

"Umm, the monsters usually left me alone after they went to bed."

.

An hour or two later, the theory of childish defences against imaginary monsters under the bed had been explained to Harry, whose thoughts were rattling along at a mile per second.

.

It was a rather beaten and extremely angry Harry Potter who pursued Bellatrix Lestrange through the Ministry of Magic, finally cursing her and receiving a lesson on the Crucuatus curse from Lord Voldemort himself.

Harry whipped around like lightening, pulling a plastic water-pistol from inside his robes and pointing it at Lord Voldemort.

"Tom, you're nothing but a child's worst nightmare …"

.

So saying, Harry squeezed the trigger multiple times, soaking his arch nemesis who started screaming and dissolving just as the Minister of Magic arrived and gasped "He's back…"

A minute later, a smoking pile of ragged robes and noisome slime was all that was left of The Dark Lord.

.

"What is that device, Potter?"

"This, Minister? Oh just some muggle technology. A water pistol filled with the most deadly of all substances – lemonade without the fizz."

So saying, Harry pointed the pistol into his open mouth and squeezed off a stream of the sweet-tart liquid before anyone could stop him.

.

"Hmm, Dean was right, flat lemonade doesn't taste so good. Maybe that's why it worked on ol' Voldie …"


	5. 05 Justin FinchFletchley

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 5 - Justin Finch-Fletchley **

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 5 - Justin Finch-Fletchley**

**.**

Harry, Ron and Hermione were heading back to the common room when they heard a quiet moaning. Rounding the corner, half expecting to see a couple of fifth years making out, they saw a traumatised Justin Finch-Fletchley sat, hugging his knees and rocking back and forth.

.

Ron ran off to fetch help while Harry and Hermione sat with the moaning boy.

Instead of his school robes, he was now clad in powder blue, satin britches with satin bows at the knees and gaudy silver buckles. His socks were horizontal stripes of royal blue and cream. The sensible shoes he normally wore had been replaced by black, patent-leather Mary-Janes with a two-inch heel and gaudy, diamante buckles.

His school shirt had been replaced by a pale cream, silk blouse-shirt with puffed sleeves and obscenely ostentatious cufflinks encrusted with diamantes. The open frock-coat was the worst of all. An eye-watering scarlet and gold brocade was enlivened by a contrasting, iridescent purple embroidery that clashed rather than complemented the brocade design. The gold buttons were of a pantomime-military style, nearly two inches in diameter and encrusted with glittery rhinestones, and yards of lace adorned the cuffs.

.

Justin's black hair had been lightened and styled in a bouffant updo reminiscent of the powdered wigs fashionable in seventeenth century Paris, including the ivory silk ribbons. His face was decorated with over-coloured make-up. His lips were painted to resemble a blood-red cupid's bow, his skin taken down to a flat white with over-red blush cheeks. Eye makeup and a stuck-on beauty spot in the shape of a crescent moon completed the poor boy's face.

.

Just as Professor McGonagall arrived, Justin looked at Harry and in a squeak implored the boy, "Harry … Help me …"

.

McGonagall shook her head. "It's just as we feared, another one has been prettified."


	6. 06 The Trigger

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 6 - The Trigger**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 6 - The Trigger**

**.**

He felt the tell-tale tug behind his navel and saw the strange, technicolour blurring of his surroundings and knew that he was off on his mission, hopefully to put an end to Lord Voldemort forever.

.

"Miss Smythe?"

The young woman peered myopically at the black-haired blur.

"You broke my glasses! How am I supposed to go to Hogwarts now?" The voice was little more than a petulant, simpering whine.

"Miss Smythe, I apologise, I wasn't looking where I was going. Please allow me to make reparations. There is a magical optician's shop nearby."

The ill-used muggleborn witch was slightly mollified, but not by much.

"I'll let you into a little secret, Miss Smythe, wizarding glasses are a lot more fashionable than those muggle ones, and are self-correcting."

The witch squinted at the blur, somewhat interested.

.

An hour later, Miss Smythe left the shop with her new glasses perched on her nose, the large lenses and lightweight frames giving her a somewhat owlish intensity and showing off her honey-coloured eyes. A few moments with a wand in a small healing centre in a side-street had tidied up the girl's somewhat crooked teeth.

"Will you be alright now, Miss Smythe?"

The girl looked at the man. "Yes, thankyou, Mr Evans. I don't know how I can ever repay you."

The whining edge had gone from her voice, a side-effect of having her teeth fixed.

"No need. Just do your best at school."

.

"Tommy? Tom!"

She threw herself at the sour-faced youth, another would-be first year.

"I never thought I'd see you again!"

The dour-faced boy's expression passed rapidly from irritation through momentary anger and then through recognition to a look of genuine joy. He hugged the girl back, tears forming in his eyes.

"Smitty! I've missed you so much since they moved you. Since you were adopted …"

"Tom, it _was_ dreadful, but we've got each other again …"

.

"My Lords and Ladies, Wizards and Witches, I give you the new Minister for Magic, Tom Marvolo Riddle."

There was thunderous applause as the handsome wizard helped his diminuitive partner onto the podium. A raised hand quietened the crowd rapidly.

"I wish to thank you all for your support tonight for your help and support, but more than anything, I want to thank my lady, here, for her help and support these many years past …

"And more than anything, I would like to announce that Miss Myrtle Smythe has finally agreed to become my wife …"

The rest was lost in the chaos of congratulations.

.

Meanwhile, a youth with messy black hair looked on, satisfied in a job well done and in the knowledge that there would be no return to his time now, to the Hell-on-Earth of post-Voldemort Britain since Voldemort had never, now, existed.


	7. 07 Head to Head The Vulcan MindFrack

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 7 - Head to Head (The Vulcan Mind-Frack)**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 7 - Head to Head (The Vulcan Mind-Frack)**

.

Voldemort grabbed Harry and put his face into the boy's face.

"You are a fool, Harry Potter, and you have been an irritation for the last time … and now you will die …"

.

Harry grabbed the dark-lord's face and, in a slightly drunken-sounding voice, declared, "I LOVE you man! I really do …"

He then proceded to kiss the lipless mouth of the Dark Lord and raped the evil wizard's mouth with his tongue.

.

As he released Voldemort's head, the dark tosser looked … well, confused doesn't cover it. Horrified and gobsmacked were in there, too.

The snakelike eyes widened and then rolled back into the hairless head. As Voldemort began to collapse, smoke started pouring from his nose, mouth and ears. A soundless explosion and Voldemort was reduced to an expanding cloud of dust that slowly winked out of existence in a sparkling coruscation of magical scintillae.

.

"Damn, Dumbledore was right, he really couldn't handle it."

.

The black haired wizard searched his pockets and produced a toothbrush and a large bottle of mouthwash, and proceeded to get the taste of snake from his mouth - rinsing, gargling and spitting until the bottle was empty before returning to his friends and the woman he loved …


	8. 08 Of Portkeys and Passengers

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 8 -** **Of Portkeys and Passengers **

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 8 -** **Of Portkeys and Passengers**

.

"Together then on three … one … two … three …"

Harry, Cedric, Viktor and Fleur each took a handle of the cup. As they did so, they felt a tug behind their navels and were spinning through the ether.

Of course, when Barty Crouch Junior had made the portkey, he had made it with one passenger in mind.

.

Having been confined to his parents' house under the imperius curse for thirteen years, he and his magic were out of shape, so he had only supplied sufficient magical power to transport a single, scrawny, teenaged wizard.

The portkey was currently doing service dragging four fairly fit and well grown students as even Harry had filled out during the year.

.

Contrary to most beliefs, the laws of physics do apply to magic, just not in the usual, muggle ways. As a consequence, the under-powered portkey had just about enough stored magic to transport Harry to its scheduled destination in Little Hangleton Graveyard, a distance of about six hundred miles … which meant that the journey for a party of four was a little under a hundred and fifty miles.

Harry, being prepared as Hermione instructed, happened to have a roll of muggle money in his pouch and treated the four of them to a meal in a muggle restaurant in Edinburgh where they had ended up. A night in a motel and a taxi back to Haughsdale (a couple of miles from Hogsmead) got them back to Hogwarts in time for lunch the next day.

.

Lord Voldemort, having lost all patience with waiting for Harry to arrive had crucio'd Wormtail repeatedly until the useless wizard had lost consciousness and finally died from the resulting brain damage.

Nagini, who had been promised rich pickings at the ritual had become bored and more than a little impatient for her dinner. Once her master had fallen unconscious, his half-formed homunculus body being incapable of channelling so much magic, she decided that the creature would make a good meal.


	9. 09 The Power of A Good Complement

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 9 - The Power of A Good Complement**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 9 - The Power of A Good Complement**

.

"Together then on three … one … two … three …"

Harry and Cedric each took a handle of the cup. As they did so, they felt a tug behind their navels and were spinning through the ether.

Their arrival was rough and Harry fell heavily. He felt as though his ankle was broken though he suspected that it was only twisted.

.

"Wands out, do you think?"

Harry nodded, Cedric cast a quick healing charm on Harry's ankle.

Side by side they emerged from behind the grave. Harry had been feeling twinges, but now his scar blossomed into pain. Voldemort …

.

"Wormtail …"

Harry nodded, knowing what to expect – the dry, rasping voice like the hissing of an irate teakettle.

"Yes Master?"

The slime-ball rat-traitor.

"… Kill the spare …"

Wormtail had never broken his habit of shouting his spells at the top of his voice. "AVADA KEVADRA!"

The green bolt travelled slowly.

"Noooo!"

Harry leapt in front of Cedric, his wand pointing at Wormtail.

.

As the killing curse touched Harry's shoulder, there was a blossoming of a magenta shield and both spells were cut off in a flash of white as he hit the ground.

"Fool! Avada kevadra!"

The killing curse blossomed once more but Pettigrew dived clear of Voldemort's magic. A quiet voice cussed as the spell missed the animagus.

"Master! He lives!"

Harry stood shakily and looked at the … thing that Tom Riddle had become.

"Hello Tom. Nice of you to invite me to your party, but it's a shame that your other … guest doesn't know how to play nice."

.

Seemingly unnoticed, Wormtail raised his wand. "CRUCIO!"

The angular, curling, yellow curse hurtled toward Harry, the surprise froze Cedric as he was seeking cover. What they saw was a blossom of light as the curse touched Harry's chest – a nimbus of blue stopped the spell and it was dissipated as a pale, whitish glow.

.

"STUPEFY! DIFFINDO! DISSECTUM!"

Bolts of red, violet and pink impacted Harry's body, met by shields of cyan, green and dark turquoise that cancelled the curses in various flashes of white.

"Imperio!"

The almost invisible twisting yellow beam leaving Voldemort's wand hit Harry in the right temple, but was met by a localised glow of midnight blue. Voldemort tried to maintain the curse but failed to hold it, and resorted to his favourite spell, on the off-chance that Wormtail was merely incompetent.

"Avada kevadra!"

.

The dazzling beam of green light hit Harry, but there was a brilliant magenta glow and the two spells cancelled with a flash of white that left two of the participants night-blind from the dancing after-images. Harry had been looking toward where Cedric was sat behind one of the tombs.

.

Harry swung around and whispered, "bombarda maxima."

A ripple of force left Harry's wand and struck Voldemort's vile-looking form. Instead of an explosion or a meaty sound, the creature simply made a sound like 'splut,' the foul-smelling ichor that had been inside the animated bag of venom was spread about and started drying.

.

Harry saw a pink cutting curse flare from where Cedric was sat, and he heard the sound of an object hitting the ground and something writhing nearby.

"Merlin, that was the biggest ruddy snake I've ever …"

"You okay Cedric?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Okay, just finishing up here. Flipendo expelliarmo petrificum stupefy, stupefy mobilicorpus."

.

Pettigrew was, in sequence, flipped, disarmed, petrified, stunned (twice to be sure) and then levitated to where Cedric was sat. On his way past, Harry summoned Pettigrew and Voldemort's wands, dropping the inverted animagus on his head … twice.

"Oh, that's gonna hurt when he wakes up."

Harry nodded, smiling and dropped the unconscious animagus once more.

"Wanna make it look good for the girls, Cedric?"

.

Cedric laughed and the two made sure that they were theatrically messed up, and that Wormtail had been artistically kicked, delicately beaten and his already tattered robes artfully shredded. Harry cast a severing charm on Pettigrew's boots to remove the soles, leaving the rat's foul and threadbare socks in clear view, His right big toe was completely bare.

The pair sat on the animagus (who was face down in the mud) and Harry summoned the Triwizard Cup, and they were whisked back to Hogwarts, arriving to pandemonium.

"Hey, we're back, and we got us a hunting trophy."

.

The stunned death eater was questioned under truth serum within the hour by Shacklebolt and Amelia Bones, resulting in Sirius being cleared of all wrongdoing.

The information also revealed the identity of the undercover death eater posing as their DADA professor, which in turn led to the rescue of the real Alastor Moody.

The two Triwizard champions, however, knew little of this since Cedric had been engulfed in a tearful Cho Chang's embrace and Harry had been swamped in a bushy-haired, rib-crushing hug by Hermione.

Ron Weasley was relieved at his friend's escape from whatever, but he really, really hated the thought of Harry getting the girl as well as the prize money. the fame and the eternal glory.

.

Before the Hogwarts Express left, Harry shared his memory of the graveyard with Dumbledore.

"So, Harry, how did you protect yourself from the Killing Curse? And the other unstoppable curses without using a wand?"

Harry smiled at the headmaster. "Just a little thing I learned this year, at the Yule Ball in fact, about a complement healing a lot of ills."

.

The Hogwarts Express left Hogsmead and an extremely bemused Albus Dumbledore.

"That's very good, Harry … I think that one day you may even fulfil the other prophesy."

Sucking a lemon drop, the headmaster pondered how his shoes would one day be filled by Mr Potter.


	10. 10 Potions Lesson

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 10 - Potions Lesson**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 10 - Potions Lesson**

.

"Bone of the father unknowingly taken, you will restore your son …

"Flesh of the servant, willingly given , you will restore your master …

"Blood of the enemy, drawn in battle, you will restore your enemy …"

.

"Umm, Peter?"

Pettigrew looked at the teen currently bound on the gravestone.

"You got that bit wrong. You cut my arm, yes, but I wasn't fighting you because I'm all tied up. Now, what does Snape always say about following instructions exactly?"

"Er, umm …"

"I'll tell you what, the potion has to simmer for a few minutes yet, so let me down and we can fix it."

Wormtail, desperate to get something right in his life agreed while Voldemort lay cursing loudly but ineffectually.

.

"Tom, shuttup! This is advanced necromancy here. If we don't get this right, the magical backlash will turn this boneyard into a hundred-foot deep crater. And that means you, me and Wormtail here."

The foetus-like Voldemort was dumbstruck.

.

"Right, let's see …. "

Harry sniffed the potion and winced.

"It's well off. We need to stir six times anticlockwise while adding …" He thought for a moment, "Thymus serpyllum and then six-times clockwise while adding Oreganum majorum. I have both here …"

The two ingredients were added and a rich, herbal smell arose in place of the graveyard fetor that had risen from the simmering cauldron. Harry sniffed again.

.

"Better," he said, "but not yet there. A resurrection from this would be rather weak. We need Gareem-assala and a crushed …" He considered the cauldron.

"… make that three crushed cloves of garlic, fresh-harvested, and a flower head, too. There are a few plants over there."

Wormtail ran over to harvest the indicated herbs.

.

"Potter, why garlic?"

"Simple, Tom, it's for the antiseptic properties. You don't want the whole of your new body rotting out from under you now, do you?"

Voldemort considered this and remained silent, wondering why the boy was suddenly aiding him. Perhaps he had discovered an interest in necromancy, maybe he could be convinced to join the dark side …

.

The garlic was added followed by the spicy smelling herbs and a few chef's pinches of other things that happened to include cumin, dried jalapeno peppers and ground cloves.

.

"How come you know this? And why do you have the materials with you?"

Harry smiled. "I discovered an interesting book on Voodoo this year, the necromantic rituals and the on-the-fly methods of potion-brewing … using a range of makeshift recipes. now …"

He looked in the cauldron and sniffed.

.

"Yup, it's ready. The process is a bit slower this way, it'll take about a half hour, but you'll find the results more than acceptable. The potion will be a little hot at first, but just brass it out and it'll be fine.

.

Wormtail reverently placed his master in the cauldron. Voldemort let out a small yelp of shock, the stuff really was painfully hot, but he decided to show no weakness.

.

Voldemort's last living thought was that Potter said something about there being enough gumbo to go around, but they really needed some vegetables and rice before the other guests arrived.

-::::::::-

Notes: 

Thymus serpyllum – The herb known as Thyme

Oreganum majorum – The herb known as Marjorum

Gareem-assala is really Garam masala – a blend of spices used in Indian cuisine.

A type of Garlic commonly grows wild in Britain. The whole plant can be used as a herb. Garlic buds are used as protection from vampires.

A chef's pinch is about a teaspoon-full


	11. 11 A Natural Mistake

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 11 - A Natural Mistake **

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 11 - A Natural Mistake**

.

The shrieking from inside the cauldron had finally ended and Wormtail was cowering on the ground, quaking with terror.

Harry extricated himself from the statue. He looked into the now cooling cauldron and winced.

"Oooh! Nasty! Wormtail, where did you get this ritual from?"

Wormtail looked at Harry.

"I – I – I - …"

.

The craven waste of protoplasm scurried to a satchel and produced a rather tatty looking book and handed it to Harry. He opened the book. It was calligraphed rather nicely, the table of contents … was mostly in modern English … He flipped to the back and found two pages very artfully torn out. The last page featured part of the information on _Substitutiary Locomotion_. He closed the book and examined the leather, the damaged bindings and so on.

Although his eyesight was never that good, Harry had keen powers of observation. He saw the faint traces of knife-cuts, the rather even bruising of the page edges and the wonderfully intricate binding made to look old and tattered, whilst remaining an extremely sound tome.

Coupling this with the almost mechanical precision of the calligraphy and the diagrams, Harry had suspicions. Strong suspicions. These were confirmed when he pulled out a scrap of Manila card, a parcel label that was being used as a bookmark.

.

On it he read:

.

**Asset Number 3577175**

**Description:**

**Astoroth Spellbook **

**(Hero Version)**

**Production Title: **

**Bedknobs and Broomsticks**

**Property of Walt Disney Productions**

.

-::::::::-

.

Afterword: I always wondered what would happen if a convincing stage prop were introduced into an isolated society like Wizarding Britain - and the book from Disney's Bedknobs and Broomsticks was one of the best ever.


	12. 12 Only So Much Magic

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 12 - Only So Much Magic**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 12 - Only So Much Magic**

.

A figure rose from the smoking remains of the cauldron. A tall, emaciated figure bereft of most facial features, pale and red-eyed.

"Robe me, my servant."

Wormtail did so, and handed the newly resurrected Lord Voldemort his yew and phoenix-feather wand.

.

Voldemort then proceeded to taunt Harry, but somehow the teen found the insane Dark Lord's posturing to lack even the presence, the _ton_ of his teenaged self back in The Chamber. Meanwhile, Pettigrew was weakening from blood loss and, seemingly, magical exhaustion.

Voldemort decided that the time was right to summon his minions, his Death Eaters. Using Pettigrew's Dark Mark, Voldemort forced his will into the connection and minutes later some twenty masked and robed figures arrived.

Voldemort railed at them for lacking the faith to find him but, even through the pain, Harry noticed a certain lack of gravitas from the golem wizard. An errant thought suggested that he sounded more like a petulant child than anything else.

When his rant was ended, he released Harry from the statue's grip, a task that seemed to take some concentration.

.

"Now, Harry Potter, you who have been an irritation for so long shall kneel before me … _Crucio_!"

The sickly yellow curse flew from the pale wand and hit Harry square in the chest.

Harry simply said, "ow!"

Voldemort re-cast the curse, bellowing the one word. "**CRUCIO!**"

This time the curse was little more than a spark.

"Ouch?"

.

At Harry's sarcastic question Wormtail's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed. At that instant, Voldemort's features began to melt and sag, his body slowly collapsed in on itself and in a few seconds a robe and a pool of greenish-brown ichor was all that was left of the Dark Lord.

.

A figure stepped forward and nudged the festering mess with a booted toe.

"Hmm. Not enough magic left to maintain his own construct…"

The figure turned and addressed the group.

"He's gone, and it looks like it's for good. Let's go … My place for drinks and something to eat …"

.

Within half a minute, Harry was alone in the graveyard with an unconscious Peter Pettigrew.

Shrugging to himself he dragged the animagus over to Cedric's still form and, summoning the cup, returned by portkey to Hogwarts.


	13. 13 Marked As His Equal

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 13 - Marked As His Equal**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

**An Additional Note:**

This started as a plot bunny, turned into a plot weasel and then died horribly. There is no polish and very little plot. There are even fewer apologies for the quality of writing - but if anyone wants to pick it up and run with it … please do!

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 13 - Marked As His Equal**

.

"So what you are saying is that you share a connection with Voldemort through your scar?"

Harry nodded.

"And don't let's forget this damnable prophesy."

"How do you know about that anyway?"

Harry smiled wanly. "Sirius told me about it. Dumbledore didn't want him to tell me, but he decided to go against the headmaster. Almost as soon as _he_ was resurrected."

Hermione nodded. She was rapidly coming to the conclusion that there were far too many secrets being kept by the so-called Leader of The Light.

.

"And so he's been sending you dreams and visions?"

Harry nodded again, unsure where Hermione was leading with this.

"And he's marked you as his equal? You share a connection and now you share his blood too?"

Harry nodded uncertainly. He was starting to get a hint of an idea.

"So you can send him dreams and visions. The blood protections on your relatives' house are useless and Dumbledore reckons your secret weapon is love, right?"

"Yes … um?"

"Harry … I have a confession to make … "

She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. A chaste kiss, to be sure … tentative, questing ,,,

The look of shock on Harry's face was rapidly replaced with something more gentle. A tender look that was so fitting and yet so alien to his features.

Hermione pulled back and continued speaking.

"Old Dumbles sends you off to live with relatives who hate and despise you? What's wrong with this picture, Harry?"

Harry thought for a moment.

"Dumbledore has no intention of my ever defeating Tom Riddle, has he?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, and he's not as light as he would have us believe. At least that's my take on it, and I'm sure Sirius would agree. Dumbledore cast the fidelius on your parents' house – he had to know who their secret keeper was."

A shadow passed across Harry's face, a moment of blood-fury, and then it was under control.

"So. What do I do?"

"Use the fact that he is your equal? Whichever dark lord you care to deal with first. I suggest that Voldie is easiest."

"How do you suggest?"

"A little light hypnotism and send him dreams and visions. I'm not sure that you trust me enough to let me guide you through it though?"

Her answer was a kiss initiated by the Boy-Who-Lived.

.

An hour later, in the shallowest of trances and guided by Hermione, Harry had put together 'dream' of being the next dark lord. His absolute trust in his best friend allowed him to relax his will and to be guided through the process of deliberately creating a day dream.

.

"Lucius. You have declared yourself a vassal of Potter!"

The death eater looked shocked under his mask.

"No My Lord! Never!"

"What threats did he use to cajole you? What promises? Never mind, I know that his first command was for you to kill me. I have seen it. _Avada kavadra_!"

Lord Voldemort looked at the cooling bodies of his two former top lieutenants. He had seen the look of triumph on Bellatrix' face when the boy accepted her oath, never mind the fact that he allowed her to torture several pureblood captives.

Voldemort's paranoia knew no bounds as his death eaters defected to the boy. Even, as far as he was concerned, Fudge had sworn fealty.

.

Voldemort hadn't slept often since being returned to his body. It was so long since he had been truly alive that he had forgotten how necessary sleep is for the correct functioning of body and mind. Now his sleep was being assaulted by The Brat, Potter.

The Dark Lord gave up trying to sleep, he filled his mind with plans and schemes, all the time denying himself the very human need for mental as well as physical rest, and his judgement was consequently impaired.

On top of which, he was assaulted constantly by Potter's damned teenage infatuation with the frizzy-maned mudblood witch. Having those … urges constantly shoved down his mental gullet just made him crankier and less likely to be rational.

.

Peter Pettigrew was sleeping when he was attacked by a post owl. He fought off the bird and wrestled the parchment free.

Surprised to find it addressed to himself, he opened and read the letter.

_Peter Ignatius Pettigrew, I, Harry James Potter do note and acknowledge that you owe me, my house and my heirs both multiple blood debt and a life debt._

_By the power of Magic and before witnesses I do demand repayment of this multiple debt even unto the extinguishing of your life and the discontinuance of your house._

_It has been assessed that partial payment of your debt may be redeemed only by the successful removal of your current Master, Tom Marvolo Riddle, styling himself Lord Voldemort._

_Proof of his death may be presented in the form of his wand and his un-living head to the proprietor of The Hog's Head in Hogsmead no later than 31 July of the current year._

_Witness my hand this day of 30 June 1995,_

_Harry James Potter_

_Witnessed by_

_Sirius Orion Black; Hermione Jane Granger; Remus John Lupin_

.

None was more surprised than Wormtail when his shaking hand pointed his wand at the back of Lord Voldemort's neck – when his silent lips shaped the syllables of a severing curse – and when his still living eyes beheld the Head of Voldemort spring from _his_ body. A second curse severed the right hand, still holding the yew wand.

The head, hand and wand were quickly wrapped and shrunk, and sent to H. care of the Hogs Head pub.

It was then that the last of the Death Eaters realised that the magic of his silver hand was unravelling.

.

_"I redeemed the debt … I did it!"_

_"No Peter, Harry made it quite clear in his letter that Voldemort's death was only a partial redemption …"_

_"Lily? James? My old friends … surely you …"_

_James shook his head._

_Lily looked at the recently dead mage._

_"Peter, you made your decisions back then. Our son set the terms, knowing that you could never repay the debt that you owe him … and us. Your actions have condemned you … the seventh circle of Hell is reserved for blasphemers, money-lenders and traitors. We only came to see your sentence carried out. Farewell, Peter Pettigrew …"_

.

Three days later, Albus Dumbledore received two letters carried by a post owl.

Two letters, one from Harry Potter, the other from Sirius Black. Both were written and couched in legal terms. Both demanded redemption of Wizard Debt, and in Harry's case, Blood Debt for betrayal of himself, his family and his house.

Somehow the brat had discovered that if correctly cast, the Fidelius Charm's secret could not be betrayed by the Secret Keeper – even if he or she desired it.

Both letters called for full disclosure and written confession of his crimes, testimony that Sirius Black was not the Potter's secret keeper, and that he, Albus Dumbledore, had deliberately misled both DMLE and Wizengamot as to the true secret keeper.

He was also instructed that this along with his permanent withdrawal from any and all positions of public responsibility would be deemed sufficient partial repayment of his blood debt, Harry being more merciful than Albus Dumbledore had been when betraying Harry's family. When he wilfully sicced Voldemort on them.


	14. 14 Harry Potter: The Gathering

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 14 - Harry Potter: The Gathering**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 14 - Harry Potter: The Gathering**

.

Harry was lost. He was walking from Hogsmead back to the school when the fog came down. He was minded of the words of one of Uncle Vernon's American clients – "it's like a cubic mile of cotton candy out there …" He could barely see his feet, let alone anything else.

.

He was certain that he hadn't left the road, and there were no turnings between the village and the school gate, and it was only a few minutes between … and here he was, almost an hour later and he was still crunching along the rocky track.

There were no buildings between Hogsmead and the gate, so what was the shape by the road?

.

_A pub? The Lost Soul?_ He shrugged and pushed open the door, hoping to find out where he was.

.

The firelight cast strange, flickering shadows. The tap room was busy though not crowded.

"Hi, come on in!"

He was greeted by a teenage girl. As he entered the lamp-light by the bar he saw her face. High, aristocratic cheekbones, a mass of black curls that cascaded past her shoulders … curse-green eyes … … a lightning-bolt scar …

.

The edges of his vision grew dark and he sat heavily on a bar stool.

.

A dark-haired man turned. "Hi there! You must be Harry."

It was like seeing his face in a mirror, but this face was older and not a reflection …

.

More people arrived at the bar. More Harrys and more Harriets… …


	15. 15 The Word of Unbinding

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 15 - **The Word of Unbinding**  
><strong>

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

A simple curse-breakers' spell and an over-complex plot to end Voldemort. Warning for the worst kind of Pseudo Dog-Latin imaginable. - Plot sketch that wasn't going anywhere.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 15 - **The Word of Unbinding**  
><strong>

Voldemort's mouth opened, and his lips lugubriously began to form the first syllable of the killing curse. He was going to savour this moment until eternity.

"_oitnachnesid melog_!" Harry's wand flared a pale grey thread of mist, carrying the Word of Unbinding.

Harry watched as it hit the figure before him.

He watched as the Dark Lord was silenced by his surprise, lips still forming an _ah_.

A small spark of purple left Voldemort's body and disappeared, dissipating in the clear air like breath on a winters' day.

Harry watched as Voldemort collapsed, his magically sustained body reverting to its constituent parts, a few dry bones, a severed hand and a pint of Harry's blood … and a lot of snake venom and bile.

Of Tom Riddle, there was nothing left. Of Harry potter, there was precious little standing but a series of bruises and cuts and burns strung together in a tattered school robe.

Harry's thoughts were centred on the unbelievable truth. _A golem. A bloody golem! Hermione was right, that is all he was._

Harry had used an almost totally inoffensive spell to defeat the Dark lord. In desperation, he had spoken the spell for removing a simple enchantment binding an object, specifically a golem together. A simple disenchantment, nothing more. Something that Voldemort hadn't even bothered to defend himself against. Something that had come to Harry's mind unbidden.

As soon as their leader collapsed, the Death Eaters had fled the battle, leaving their fallen and wounded behind.

He stood, almost mindlessly looking at the spreading pool of filth until Hermione arrived and gently led him away.

"Harry, well done. You've defeated him. Now, there's someone you need to meet."

Harry was led into the castle, along secret ways and into a tower Harry had never visited before.

Up and up they climbed until they came to a door.

"Ah, come in, Harry. Please." A familiar voice. A voice that he could not possibly be hearing.

He walked through the door. He found himself riveted with shock.

Before him stood Albus Dumbledore, in the flesh and looking as healthy as he ever had. Opposite, examining the map spread across the desk was another figure, a man with messy, raven-black hair. There too stood a smirking Draco Malfoy and a grinning Ron Weasley. He could hear Ginny Weasley's voice emerging from the room beyond.

"Is that Harry already? I'll be right there."

"I apologise, Harry, for the deception, but you couldn't possibly be allowed to know that I was still alive. You had to believe absolutely that I was dead, aided by Mr Malfoy here and the late Severus Snape. Of course, at some level, you always knew, simply because our other associates are not perfect actors."

"Professor, I don't understand …?"

"Of course not, Harry. We will explain…"

At that point Ginny emerged from the back room. She smiled at him. "Hi Harry. You did it then."

Then she went and hugged Malfoy, who wrapped his arm around her as she snuggled into his side. Hermione went and spoke to the dark-haired figure who was still ignoring him.

"You see, Harry, we needed you to be immune to the killing curse, indeed, any other usual curse. We needed you to have one objective in life, and that was to destroy Lord Voldemort, which you did easily using the simplest of charms. Truly you were His equal. It was Mrs Potter who hatched the idea…"

"M-m-missus Potter?"

The dark haired figure now stood and turned. Harry was face-to face with … himself. Hermione was hugging the other Harry.

"Hello Harry. Yes, that is correct, you and I are the same. Well, not quite the same, you see, you are much, much younger than I, and you and Hermione never fell in love. Of course, we couldn't give you too many of my memories, just in case Voldemort looked. Just enough …"

Harry blinked. "Then … I don't … what …?"

"Ah, well, thank you Harry for ridding us of Voldemort. I must admit, I rather would prefer not to feel quite so fractured as I do now. Hermione?"

Hermione raised her wand and uttered the word of unbinding.

"_oitnachnesid melog_."

Harry felt his mind slipping, the world becoming grey and finally white.

A bolt of purple left his body and entered the forehead of the other Harry, who smiled. They looked down at the remains of the golem. Rose petals, a few drops of blood, a strand of hair from James Potter's hair brush, a phoenix feather, and a lot of sunlight and hope, which is as it should be.


	16. 16 Granger's Choice

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 16 - **Granger's Choice**  
><strong>

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

While in the tent, Hermione has a dream. A prophetic dream, one that changes the future.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::**-**

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 16 - **Granger's Choice****

.

"Put in it's most simple terms, Miss Granger, you have a choice."

She nodded. "So why am I here and not…"

"Upon your decision rests the fate of the world. What you decide decides also the fate of every man, woman and child on the planet."

"So what is this momentous decision?"

"You must decide who you support. Who you will bind yourself to…"

There was a pause, then the voice went on. "If you choose well, then your union will be that much more powerful. The dark lord will fall and you will herald in a new age of prosperity …

"Choose badly, and the light shall fail and you will consign the world to everlasting darkness, and evil shall consume the world."

She blanched. "What must I do?"

"When you decide, you must act. Once you act, you must kiss him within fifteen minutes to seal the pact and bind yourself to him."

"And if I don't seal the pact?"

"Then entropy shall rule, and the darkness will finally triumph."

.

Hermione considered her surroundings.

"Wait a minute, I went to bed in the tent. This is a dream."

"Yes, but just because it's a dream doesn't make it any less real …"

.

"So you choose him! Fine!"

Ron spun on his heel and strode out.

"Ron, wait! Don't go!…"

She tried to follow him but she was hampered by her own shield charm.

When she got outside, Ron had disappeared.

.

"He's gone, Harry."

She was suddenly struck by the decision she had made. She had decided.

"Harry, I had a dream. There is something I need to do. I'm sorry if this seems strange …"

With tears in her eyes and a farewell in her heart to her boyfriend, she pulled Harry's lips down to her own and sealed the pact.

.

The two of them seemed to be getting further without Ron present. The tent ran smoothly, and with a little reorganisation, they could keep watch while sharing body heat. Their time together was smoothed by kisses and hugs and small gestures of affection. They slept in each other's arms, and were content.

.

Hermione was in tears. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry … your wand … it's all my fault …"

She had her back was to him and her shoulders were heaving as she sobbed, tears running down her cheeks and into her lap. She was a picture of abject misery.

He walked round and stood in front of where she was sat on their bed. She felt his hand gently cup her chin and raise her face to him. The sad, worried expression on his face gave her pause.

"My 'Mione, please don't cry. What's done is done, and it was an accident."

"I can't get it to rejoin at all with a _reparo_. At least you can use my wand almost as well as your own."

"Hermione, love, what did you tell me about that funny, prophetic dream you had? _Your union will be that much more powerful_?"

He sat beside her and lifted her onto his lap. Putting his arm around her waist, he gently held her wand while she still held it.

"Together …"

"_Reparo_."

There was a wash of heat, and the broken fibres of Harry's holly wand were pulled together. Harry smiled. "Now, you try my wand?"

She did, and it was every bit as good as her own.

"Harry, but wands don't work like that …"

He chuckled. "No? Maybe not, but our wands can't tell us apart anymore."

"What are you saying, Harry?"

"Well, it may be too late for this but, Hermione Granger, will you consent to be my wife?"

"Too late? Of course I will you silly man!"

Later, laying in a tangle of limbs, Hermione asked Harry what he had meant.

"Look love, we've been together since we were eleven, friends, best friends and girl and boyfriend. We've been through adventures, fought and faced death together. Even our magic seems to be joined. Maybe we're already married in a way."

"Well we certainly are now, Mr Potter." She giggled, thinking about their recent activities.

"In which case, Mrs Potter, how do you want to spend the rest of our honeymoon?"

She felt a flush of pleasant warmth through her body as he called her _Mrs Potter_.

.

The locket no longer seemed to be affecting either of them, in fact, Harry suggested that it was sulking.

.

A night arrived when Harry was standing guard and a silver doe appeared.

"Hermione, I'm going to follow it, you get yourself up and follow?"

She answered as Harry followed the patronus, eventually finding a frozen pool with, Harry could see, a sword at the bottom. For a pool of only a few feet across, it seemed to be extremely deep.

Magic didn't seem to work when he tried to summon the sword, so he waited for Hermione.

Together they summoned the sword, the hilt breaking the surface a few seconds later.

Placing the locket on a rock, they prepared to destroy the horcrux. Suddenly the locket was open and showing them nightmares of each other being unfaithful.

They looked at each other and laughed as Hermione hit the foul object with the Sword of Gryffindor.

.

By the time the couple returned to Hogwarts to fight the final battle, they were no longer entirely alone. The morning that they arrived, Hermione had asked Harry a question.

"Harry, Love?"

"Yes, Mrs Potter?"

"What do you want to call our daughter when she's born?"

Harry swung around, his eyes suddenly moist. "We're going to …. Oh, Hermione, I love you so much!"

.

In that moment, Harry had the world to live for. He intended to be there when his little girl grew up. Together, as with everything else they did, they went to meet Voldemort together.

"Harry Potter, and your little mudblood. So nice of you to come calling …"

"Tom, I see you're still hiding your half-blood self among the inbred dregs of the wizarding world."

"You filthy …"

Bella's head was sliced neatly from her neck. The pair looked at each other as though trying to figure out who had silenced her.

"Now, Tom, we have business. Your wand is broken."

There was a resounding crack as Tom Riddle's phoenix wand snapped in his hand.

The pair, in perfect synchronisation, cast a spell that Voldemort wasn't familiar with, but soon would be, if but briefly.

The magic they unleashed, a powerful spell of unbinding, loosened the magic that had built Voldemort's construct body, returning it to the components that had been used … Bones of the father, Flesh of the Servant and Blood of the Enemy.

Nagini fell to a reducto and a bombarda cast simultaneously.

The battle that followed between the teens and Voldemort's inner circle was bloody and vicious, but without their leader or the power of fear, the death eaters were simply outclassed, having become lazy fighters.

With no leaders, the Dark Lord's army simply melted away, and the teens returned to Hogwarts dirty, bruised and singed, but essentially unharmed.

.

Eight months later when Lilly Emma Potter entered the world, Harry thought his heart would explode with joy. He beheld his daughter, an explosion of messy brown hair and emerald eyes. As he held her and his wife, he felt the love coursing through his body.

There was a burst of green light from his scar and a scream that came from no human throat, as the horcrux lodged in Harry's scar was vaporised by the one thing Voldemort couldn't stand.

And, with the birth of their daughter, the Potters heralded in a new golden age of wizarding prosperity … until their next adventure.


	17. 17 Love Her Like a Sister

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 17 - **Love Her Like a Siste**r  
><strong>

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

Extra Squick Factor here!

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

****Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 17 - **Love Her Like a Siste**r****

_._

"_After you left, she cried for a week. Probably longer, only she didn't want me to see. There were loads of nights when we never even spoke to each other. With you gone…"_

"_She's like my sister. I love her like a sister and I reckon she feels the same way about me. It's always been like that. I thought you knew."_

They walked back to the tent, Harry leading, a smirk on his face. As they arrived, Harry called out.

Hermione came barrelling out of the tent and caught Harry in a brown-haired embrace and fixed his lips with her own.

A blushing Ron Weasley cleared his throat.

"Like your sister? Is this how you would greet your sister?"

The pair broke of their kiss. Hermione giggled, blushing.

"Oh yes, Ron. This is how I'd kiss my sister, but there again, while you were gone we talked most nights. We shared our deepest, darkest secrets."

His voice became hoarse and low. "And when we got to sexual fantasies, we found that we share one particular fantasy."

Her eyes were dark with lust and Ron could see the tension in both their bodies.

"Yes, Ron. Harry and I are both …"

Her voice was husky with her own lusting, Ron could smell her arousal even from here.

"We're both kinky for a bit of … incest …"

.

Appalled, Ron threw the deluminator at the tent, actually getting it inside the flap. He apparated away.

Inside the tent the young lovers were almost helpless with laughter.

"It worked! Into incest indeed!"

"Come on, Sis, let's do some pervy!"

His face fell. "On second thoughts, Mrs Potter, let's not joke about it. Do we dare tell the git that Dumbledore was wrong? That there weren't actually any horcruxes and that Riddle's already dead?"

"Nahhh! Good idea to honeymoon in the tent though, Husband of mine. Shame about Ron turning up again, though."


	18. 18 Seven Books

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 18 - **Seven Books**  
><strong>

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 18 - **Seven Books****

.

Harry Potter was worried - worried, afraid, angry and conflicted.

He walked the corridor, fretting about what he had just been told by the headmaster – about a prophesy that that he alone could destroy Tom Riddle.

He wanted somewhere quiet and private where he could think, but in the back of his mind was the worry – the fear of failure and his concerns over what the future could hold.

The door to the Room of Requirement appeared and he slipped inside, finding a library of sorts.

It was a dark room filled with the smell of old books, with a blazing fire and overstuffed, leather chairs. On the table beside one of the chairs sat a pile of muggle paperback books.

His curiosity piqued, Harry picked up the first one. _Harry Potter and the Philosophers' Stone_.

He was about to put the book back on the pile when he decided to read the book, and why not? At least he could laugh at the rubbish someone was putting out about him.

.

Evening after evening he returned to his hidden reading room, soon enough joined by Hermione Granger. As they sat reading in companionable silence they occasionally chuckled or made vague comments.

"That never happened!"

Or, "It was nothing like that!"

Or even, "there was a lot more to it than that!"

.

Harry was coming to the end of the fifth book, and was re-living the horrors of the recent past, the Department of Mysteries, where his godfather had been injured by his own cousin. He was shocked to see that in the story Sirius had died. That alone told him that this was absolute fantasy.

Then books six and seven. The future.

The teens took the tale with a pinch of salt, but it still gave them ideas.

.

"Headmaster … I know about Voldemort's Horcruces."

The wizard looked shocked.

"… and I think I may know where they are …"

Harry showed his proof, Ravenclaw's diadem.

.

The two wizards and one witch looked at the unassuming ring. A brown pebble in a cheap, greening silver setting - the last treasure of a family bankrupt of nobility, wealth and magic.

Dumbledore was still nursing his aching right hand from where Harry had used a light bludgeoning spell to prevent the headmaster from picking up the ring. Albus acknowledged, now that he had analysed the curse on the ring, that he owed his student a life debt. The withering curse would have taken root in his flesh and he would have been dead by this time next year at the very latest.

.

Nagini proved to be the most difficult horcrux to access, but Harry's patience paid off. Sitting silenced under his invisibility cloak allowed him catch the snake off guard while she hunted close to the old Riddle manor.

The snake, like the basilisk, died upon the edge of Gryffindor's sword.

.

The final horcrux was the most difficult to deal with, but with the aid of Dumbledore, Hermione and the Flamels, the dark magic of Voldemort's least soul fragment was transferred to an object of no worth and then destroyed by fiendfyre.

.

"How will you destroy Lord Voldemort, Harry?"

He grinned. "Information overload, Professor."

Dumbledore was confused by the lad's cryptic comment.

.

Lord Voldemort arrived to witness the mayhem and chaos that was Diagon Alley when he felt himself tackled from behind.

Lord Voldemort, the most feared dark lord of the millennium lay in an undignified heap, face down in the gutter of Diagon Alley. Extending his magic, he found his arch nemesis on his back.

Harry Potter pulled from his pocket a muggle paperback book … and another … and another, until seven hefty tomes graced the street. He felt the magic of a switching spell exchanging … the information in the books … for …

There was only blackness.

.

Harry Potter cast an incendio on the seven volume set of _The Life and Times of Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Voldemort, An Autobiography_.

The body of Lord Voldemort, while strong in magic was mindless, its head containing only a semi-fictional narrative of the second Wizarding War of Lord Voldemort. Not enough to even count as basic instinct.

Voldemort's body died during its trial, the magic binding the flesh golem failing through lack of direction.

And so ended the life and times of Lord Voldemort.


	19. 19 On The 13th Day of Christmas

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 19 - **On The 13th Day of Christmas**  
><strong>

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 19 - **On The 13th Day of Christmas****

.

**Notes:**

When Harry and Voldemort both died, there was no victor, and therefore, the magic simply died with them. Hermione is determined to prevent the destruction of life as we know it.

This is a Dark tale, and not well finished - it had its time and the more I tried to polish it, the less I thought of it.

Polyamory is in the traditions of the Great Classical Heroes of **any** culture. It forms a part of the _Hero Cycle_ linked to death and rebirth, and this is why.

Just in case you don't know the song:

_On the twelfth day of Christmas, My true love sent to me:  
>Twelve drummers drumming,<br>Eleven pipers piping,  
>Ten lords a-leaping,<br>Nine ladies dancing,  
>Eight maids a-milking,<br>Seven swans a-swimming,  
>Six geese a-laying,<br>Five golden rings,  
>Four calling birds,<br>Three French hens,  
>Two turtledoves,<br>And a partridge in a pear tree!_

-::::::::-

**On The 13th Day of Christmas **

.

**Chapter 12: One Lord A-Leaping**

Draco Malfoy felt himself falling. As he opened his eyes he found himself face-down in a shallow pond.

He really could have done without being dragged from his nice, warm fireside without so much as a by-your-leave.

The cause of his current predicament had been a Christmas card, one of those muggle cards with a picture on the front and a message inside. The picture had been unusual. It had been a stylised Christmas tree bearing representations of the gifts from the song about the twelve days of Christmas.

What had intrigued Draco was the title below the picture. In flowing script it had read, 'The Thirteen Days of Christmas.' When he opened the card, just before feeling that tug behind his navel, his gaze had registered an almost photographic picture of some kind of time turner, but this had been animated and had several sand-glasses at odd angles to each other.

Unlike any usual portkey, Draco had been unaware of it still being in his possession during the flickering trip through the magical wormhole. Right now, though, that was the least of his worries as he had arrived in a partially frozen, muddy pond. It was dark, it was cold and he was far from home.

Squelching out of the pool on all fours, he cast drying and warming charms on himself and, once he had cast a mage-light charm, he could see that he was covered in dried, sticky mud. A few cleansing charms were called for.

Cursing his luck and tunelessly whistling 'The Twelve Days of Christmas,' the twelfth Marquis of Allsbrook, Lord Malfoy staggered off to try and find some sign of civilisation.

.

**Chapter 11: A Lone Piper Piping**

Neville Longbottom was going to have a hangover. He could already feel the first shadows of pain shading the hinterlands of his awareness.

It had been a wild night in the Hog's Head, this years' Yule celebrations being just that bit brighter than the previous few years, but Neville wasn't really celebrating. No, Neville was trying to drown his memories of the war, of that terrible day when Hagrid had brought back Harry Potter from the Forbidden Forest and his brother, Grawp, had dragged back the remains of Tom Riddle.

Riddle's remains were already decaying, and his stinking corpse had been burned with little ceremony and much rejoicing that day. Fasold, the dragon that Hagrid had been caring for, had done the chore. A single blast of dragon-fire and Voldemort was a wisp of greasy smoke. Harry Potter, dead at Voldemort's hand, however, was buried with much ceremony and accompanied by more tears than anyone had ever seen.

Neville was dimly aware that he should have passed through the main gates by now, but he seemed to be staggering along a dirt road across the heather-clad uplands East of the school. Neville was lost.

Through the alcohol-induced haze, Neville vaguely remembered a post-owl delivering a Christmas Card to him. He had no idea who had sent it, but that they had managed to get the name of the song wrong. It was twelve, not thirteen days of Christmas, after all.

The song ran through his head, so he pulled out the flute Harry had given him and played the tune as he walked, a kind of lament for the boy he had been friends with, who had taught him to be a true wizard. The boy who had ended the war. Voldemort's war.

As he played, he was all too aware of the years that had passed since his friend's death, thirteen dreadful years of rebuilding the fractured world that he knew.

.

**Chapter 10: A Solo Drummer Drumming**

Nymphadora Tonks was playing percussion. True, it was unintentional, and she was playing using hands, elbows, knees, feet, head and shoulders. It was also her infamous dustbin solo, where a drum roll sent a galvanised bin rolling down Genge Street.

The former auror staggered along the darkened road, weaving around and occasionally through the dustbins waiting for the early collection that morning, the last before Christmas.

It had been a terrible year, the last of many. True, Lord Moldyshorts had been defeated, but at a terrible cost. Like many who had fought in the final battle, The Battle of Hogwarts, Tonks had taken to drink in an attempt to reduce the pain of her loss.

Tonks tripped over bin-bag full of tin cans and fell over. She lay in the gutter looking at the overcast, London night sky, grey and unwelcoming, lit by the jaundice-glow of the city's many street lamps.

A sudden owl interrupted her drunken musing by dropping an envelope on her.

She opened the Christmas card. The words seemed wrong, but her head was spinning as she passed out.

It was dawn when she became aware of her surroundings. Through the fog of hangover and post-alcoholic toxicity, she vaguely assumed that she had wandered out onto Hampstead Heath. It was only as she staggered forth that she began to realise that London was a very long way off.

Wherever she was looked more like the Scottish uplands.

Without further consideration, she staggered off through the Heather and Ling that clothed the winterscape before her.

.

**Chapter 9: A Lone Dancer **

Susan Bones, spinster of this parish, whirled the hours away. Here in the permanent spell-damage ward of St Mungo's Hospital such behaviour was noteworthy only in it's being almost commonplace.

Susan has been present when Voldemort's Death Eaters had tortured to death every first year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw at Hogwarts.

The sight and sound of twenty young people being subjected to extended exposure to the cruciatus curse had unhinged her. The crisis came as the last fell silent, sighing out the pink foam that betokened death by torture.

No one was actually certain what had happened, but the gentle redhead had snapped. In a spinning, whirling frenzy she had physically and magically assaulted every Death Eater in the Great Hall. Not one survived her attack. It took the aurors several days to even be able to agree upon how many she had killed. They had found her serenely spinning and dancing around the vast chamber, wand, fist and feet flying in an unending dance of death.

Her dance had begun at about the same time that Harry had met Voldemort in the forest.

Thirteen years later, she had never stopped. Her unseeing eyes darting, her body, thin from lack of true sustenance, had been fed by magic alone. Her mind gone, her body continued the program of destruction that it had begun that time long past.

Somehow a post owl appeared in the room where the whirling girl continued to fight unseen foes. Without a break in her rhythm she snatched the envelope from the bird, pulling out the decorated card.

As she whirled away, an observer may have heard the first word she had uttered in thirteen years. "Finally…"

.

**Chapter 8: One Milken Maid.**

Luna Lovegood had once been happy and carefree. Thirteen years ago, that had changed.

War changes everyone, and may make corpses out of them all.

The girl with dirty blond hair was now a broken woman with white hair and white skin. Her lips were pale with worry and her eyes pale for lack of daylight.

In her candle-lit library in the blackened and half-destroyed Rookery, her childhood home, she pored over ancient tomes.

Luna Lovegood was a seeress, but now she considered herself a seeker.

It was only Danvey, the family house elf, who ensured that Luna survived. Danvey brought her mistress food and water, and levitated her into bed when she fell asleep working in her library.

Danvey was worried about her milk-pale mistress since the death of her father, Xenophilus. Danvey had become increasingly concerned as Luna worked ceaselessly, pausing barely to attend her physical needs, and to exchange owls with another researcher known simply as Miss Partridge, who lived in the appropriately named, Pear Tree Cottage, somewhere in Wales.

Mistress Luna received a card, delivered by a post owl. An unusual owl, in Danvey's opinion. She had rarely seen a Nessler Owl being used for so mundane a task, but here was one delivering a special message.

Danvey was unconcerned as the wards filtered out inappropriate messages. Luna looked up from her book and smiled as she took the envelope.

"Danvey, if I fail to return, there is a pair of socks and a bag of galleons in the safe for you. You will need to go and find another family. You have been a good elf. The best, as well as my friend. Goodbye, Danvey."

The milk-white woman opened the card and vanished with a small smile.

.

**Chapter 7: A Single Swan**

Padma Patil lay on her sofa. She was, as usual, exhausted. It had been another long day with the Royal Ballet. They were in final rehearsal for the Christmas production of Swan Lake. Her sister, Parvati, and she had left the Magical World after the war ended, the pain of remembrance being too great for either of them.

The discipline and energy required to become a world-class ballerina at eighteen was enough to force her to forget, if but for a few hours, the pain of victory.

She had soaked in her bath, letting the tensions of the day wash from her in the hot water. Her meal was hearty. Even as a ballerina, her magical metabolism demanded more food than non-magical dancers could need. Now, she lay and relaxed as best she could.

A greyish blur crossed the room, dropping an envelope on her. She opened it and regarded the card.

She nodded sagely and, opening the missive, she disappeared.

.

.

**Chapter 6: The Golden Goose**

Millicent Bulstrode had changed. During the war, she had cast her lot with the side of Light. She had worked alongside the school's healer, caring for the wounded and patching up the lightly hurt. Now, afterward, she had worked hard at changing, becoming something she wasn't at school.

Hard, physical work coupled with a light diet and effort in her personal grooming had rendered the large girl unremarkable. While still big, she was now of an athletic build. She had worked hard at qualifying to become an auror.

Whilst at an academic disadvantage, she had made up for her educational shortcomings with sheer effort.

It wasn't enough for the high standards set for the Auror Division, but she had, meanwhile, discovered that she had a knack for muggle-cookery. She had left the magical world and had learned the trade of chef. Now, she was one of the senior chefs at a famous wizarding restaurant in London's West End.

At school, she had barely exchanged a dozen words with Harry Potter over all seven years, but she was desperately aware that his sacrifice had meant that she had a choice of jobs, the freedom to marry or otherwise, and the chance to live her own life.

Harry Potter had affected her future more than he could have ever known. It was in his memory that she tried her utmost to avoid wasting his sacrifice, his gift to her.

She was studying at home while eating a saffron omelette when a grey owl dropped an envelope on her desk. She removed the card inside and opened it with a slight smile.

Without further ado, she faded from view and was gone.

.

**Chapter 5: Five Magic Rings**

George Weasley sat, huddled in his apartment. Wrapped in a knitted blanket salvaged from The Burrow minutes before it was destroyed, he warmed himself as best he could before the meagre fire.

In a wooden box were the last mementoes of his family.

He was the last.

Percy was the first to die, killed during the fall of the Ministry. Then Fred and Ginny during the Final Battle; they died giving Harry the chance to do what he had to - to end the reign of evil. By the end of that same year, his parents along with Charlie, Bill and Ron had gone, at the hands of the rabid remains of Voldemort's death squads.

Thirteen years ago tonight, George's parents and family had been murdered by those same lunatics, burned to death in their own home.

All he had were bittersweet memories, an old blanket and the rings. Five magical betrothal rings, the sole legacy of Wordsworth Weasley, a magical jeweller of the sixteen hundreds.

George waved his wand across the rings causing them to glow, the dweomer of ancient and powerful magics.

A bitter, salt tear ran down his cheek.

The headline across the front page of The Daily Prophet caught his eye. "Magic dying."

George knew all too well about the story. He knew that his own magic was dwindling, and so was everyone else's. The war against Voldemort had done this to them. The cost of victory was their magic. The heart had gone out of Wizarding Britain, taking with it the will to live.

The indomitable British Mage, the unassailable attitude of moral invincibility, the crazy, backward lifestyle that represented the true heart of wizard kind, even to those magical folk on other continents, the source of hope for wizard kind was dying.

Another tear fell. That he should be here to see the final death of wizard magic from the world, the end of the magical civilisation that had spawned the world's myths and legends.

He pulled the card from the envelope and, pocketing the five golden rings, opened the card and disappeared from his dying world.

Some time later, the fire went out.

.

**Chapter 4: Calling Birds**

Cho Chang sat in the parlour of her parents' home. The house that had once echoed with the sounds of four generations of her family was silent now, but for the crackle of the fire and the ticking of the long-case clock by the door.

The once beautiful woman now sat, her once ebony locks grizzled, her once bright eyes dull with grief. She had buried her father at Norton cemetery that day, the only mourner present.

Of her family, she was the last. Of her wizarding friends, there was only Millie Bulstrode left. If any had asked her, she would have agreed that the cost of victory was beyond endurance.

She threw a handful of powder into the fire.

"Mistress McGonagall's Office, Hogwarts."

After the pleasantries were out of the way, Cho asked how the mothballing of the school was going. The news was painful. The eternity charms were failing, and many of the treasures were being transferred to muggle storage facilities.

"I have decided to go, Professor. I called to say goodbye."

The elder witch looked sad.

"Good luck, and Merlin protect you. Farewell, Miss Chang…"

Once the connection was broken, the Chinese witch pulled a Christmas card from its envelope and opened it, her lips grim and her expression set, leaving an empty house behind.

.

.

**Chapter 3: A French hen**

Gabrielle Delacour wondered if there were truly any hope left as she read the note from the mysterious Miss Partridge.

Her mother and elder sister had passed in the recent few days, their veela magic failing and their bodies reverting to dust in a few minutes. She had been energised by them, their last traces of strength passing into her younger body.

She opened the card knowing it to be a portkey of sorts, and vanished with some small hope of surviving this latest threat to life.

.

**Chapter 2: Turtle Doves**

Hermione Granger did what she needed to in order to survive. She had applied herself to her studies in school, but she had never been able to take her formal magical studies beyond her NEWTs. Informally, however, she had gone much further.

Quietly and without outside knowledge, she had continued studying and researching. She had inherited Harry's libraries – those books belonging to both the Potters and to the Black family.

For some reason unfathomed, her experiences with a time turner during her third year and then her experiences in the Time Room in the Department of Mysteries had left her with a more than passing interest in the mechanics of time.

Supported by her inheritance from Harry, she had studied sciences and mathematics for two years at a London technical college, and had then continued her studies at Cambridge, commuting magically from her adopted home at Grimmauld Place.

Studying under the foremost minds of the age, she had become an expert on the nature of time. Her arithmancy studies had given her an … insight into the field, and she had independently developed the spell-work that permitted the activation of a time-turner.

Spending a small fortune with a precision engineering company, she built her first prototype and successfully operated it under laboratory conditions, sending objects and living organisms back and forth across time.

Further money permitted the construction of a more complex device that allowed more complex journeys, both in time and space. She could now simultaneously follow several lines of research, which she did, while pursuing a doctorate under the watchful eye of Professor Hawking.

Her thesis, On The Nature of Time and Paradox changed the course of theoretical physics, but only she and her professor knew that the theory was actually proven empirically. Using time compression, she was able to carry out further development without ageing, and before the world's magic was too depleted to complete her self-imposed mission.

.

Her mentor's electronic voice asked her, "what are you planning, Miss Granger?"

"I want to repair what has gone awry, Professor. There is one event that the arithmantics tells me was the cause of the world's magical depletion."

"Why save what cannot be saved?"

"Because all life requires magic to survive. As far as I can tell, life and magic are the same thing. The non-magical cannot express external magic, the magical can, and that is all."

"Show me. I do not doubt, but I would appreciate seeing your proof."

Hermione transferred the files to her professor's computer.

"Professor, I must leave shortly, I am close to the absolute limit here and now. I will take steps to ensure that our work is not lost in the new time stream."

The professor managed to force his features into a genuine smile. "Take care, Hermione. I will see you whenever."

She took her leave, travelling to Hogwarts to meet her old transfiguration professor.

"Hermione?"

"Minerva. The time is here. We must leave soon."

"All of the transit keys got off alright. Are the transit keys ready?"

Hermione nodded. "I will send them last night using school owls. You go on to Pear Tree Cottage, I'll meet you there."

The two activated complicated magical pendants and faded from the room.

.

.

**Chapter 1: Miss Partridge**

After sending the magically enhanced Christmas cards, Hermione travelled back to the rendezvous point. The place was Pear Tree Cottage in Wales, the time was December 23,1881.

Her arrival was accompanied by the familiar, pleasant sensation of warmth as the world's magic once more enveloped her.

.

"Miss Partridge, I presume?"

"Hello Luna. Yes, guilty as charged. Welcome to 1881. Has everyone arrived safely?"

Luna giggled. "There are a few hangovers in the bedrooms, but yes, we managed to round them all up. Draco was the most difficult. He had no idea what was happening."

Hermione nodded. "That's because he's not our Draco, he's from a cognate timeline. Our Draco died as a result of the Haldeman probability shift – his Hermione never developed the transit key. Have you briefed him?"

The blond girl smiled. "He was quite eager once it was explained. It seems that he was more than a little upset about Harry. Everyone is in for the whole journey, no matter what. Minerva is currently briefing them on the closed paradox resolution you came up with. I'm still not sure how that works, though?"

"It's quantum, and that says it all. Quantum probability doesn't make intellectual sense to us, it just happens."

Luna shrugged.

.

"Right, listen up everyone! You all know what we need to do. When we get up to our target era we will be taking possession of our pre-teen selves for a short while in order to integrate our present awareness and to ensure that our younger selves will carry out our mission.

"Minerva will be there from 1970 and will ensure Harry's safety and sanity from day one. Tonks will be there from 1975 in order to be ready to start the ball rolling promptly. The rest of you will arrive just before we travel up on the Hogwarts Express."

"What about you, Hermione?"

"I'll be there from 1980, just in case Minerva needs to extract Harry for any reason. Remember, this is the unknown we're going into. The past will have changed radically.

"Now, your trunks are all packed and in stasis for Minerva to collect them once we're on our way. Does anyone have any last minute supplies they need? Everyone have spare wands or other foci?"

The general consensus was that everyone was ready to go.

"In which case we depart on the seventh of January."

.

.

**Chapter 13: My true-Love sent to me … **

Hope

"Worthless freaks don't deserve Christmas, Boy. Get in there!"

Harry Potter, aged six and a half, was kicked into his cupboard under the stairs. As he lay in the gloom, tears silently escaping from his eyes, he felt something land on his chest. He held up a Christmas Card with a stylised picture of a Christmas tree and the gifts from the song. He could just make out the words on the front, and wondered about it being a joke.

"On the thirteenth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me …"

He opened the card and saw one word. "Hope."

It was signed by a Miss Partridge.

A moment later he felt an odd tugging sensation and he found himself in an old cottage.

"Good morning Harry."

"G'morning, m-ma'am."

"Look at me, Harry."

The child looked at the elderly witch.

"I'd like you to think of me as your fairy godmother. Now, I know that it's pretty terrible living with the Walrus and company, but that can't be helped. In the meantime, we can do other things while you _should_ be locked in that damnable cupboard …"

.

Love 

Harry felt the now familiar tug behind his navel, and he appeared in a pleasant living room in a family house.

"Hi Harry, Merry Christmas."

"Hi Hermione, and the same to you. Mrs Granger? Thanks for letting me stay with you."

"It's no problem, Harry, I just wish we could get you out of that place permanently. Now, your trunk is in your room. Why don't you go and get showered and changed and then we'll go out to do some Christmas shopping."

As he emerged from the shower room with a vast towel wrapped around his lean frame, he was met by Hermione.

"You know, Harry, I think I could fall in love with you."

Harry blushed furiously. "I'm supposed to say yuck, gross and icky, but…"

He took Hermione gently in his nine-year-old arms and hugged her tenderly, and then planted a peck on the tip of her nose, being rewarded by a tiny squeak and a blush.

.

Friendship

"So the rumours are true then. Harry Potter is coming to Hogwarts. My name is Draco Malfoy and these are Crabbe and Goyle. You'll find that there are some wizarding families that are better than others, but I'll be damned if I ever seem to be allowed to mix with the right sort. I mean, look at the two idiots. Too thick to be minions, too stupid to be henchmen, too lumpy to be doormats.

"I see that you've met Miss Granger then?"

"Actually, Draco, I've known Hermione for a few years. We've been studying together when we can."

Hermione smiled at Malfoy who grinned at her. "You fixed your teeth early, I see?"

She laughed. "First thing Harry did when he learned the charm."

.

Support

"Congratulations Harry."

"I thought you said that your family have been in Slytherin for centuries, Draco?"

The blond boy grinned. "Well, I guess I'm the white sheep of the family then."

.

"Harry?"

He looked up at the brown-haired seventh year witch.

"I'm Tonks. I'm the Gryffindor prefect this year, I'd like to make sure that you're okay, I know that you of all people are likely to find it rough this year."

Harry smiled easily, something that Tonks had never seen in the old time stream.

"Thanks. If I hadn't been raised at least with some knowledge of the wizarding world, I guess it would have been pretty dreadful. Besides, I've already made a number of friends …"

Tonks smiled. "Well, don't be a stranger, Harry. Apart from anything else, we're distant cousins. Very distant cousins."

"I'll bear that in mind, umm, Tonks."

.

Fun

"RONALD WEASLEY, YOU ARE A DISGRACE. HOW DARE YOU BE SORTED INTO SLYTHERIN! I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO ASHAMED IN MY LIFE! …"

The howler continued in that same vein for three minutes before exploding in a shower of red confetti.

"I reckon the weasel will get what's coming to him. First Snake in the family for nine generations."

Secretly, Draco Malfoy thought it most amusing that he and the Weasel had exchanged places in this time stream.

.

Family

By the end of his first year, Harry had once more defeated Lord Voldemort. This time, however, Harry had not needed to touch the possessed professor, his close proximity had increasingly hurt the evil overlord because of the love he was surrounded by.

He and his friends were inseparable. Harry was rarely to be seen out of the company of Draco, Neville, Hermione, Susan, Padma and Millicent. In their free time they were usually joined by Tonks, Cho and the Weasley twins.

For some reason that the Headmaster could never fathom, he seemed to attract their attention. Never had headmaster Dumbledore seen a similar group of students who were so openly … demonstrative, he thought, showing those small physical signs of affection that were prevalent in families.

He brooded darkly about that, knowing that the Dursleys would have left the boy starved of affection, just as he wanted. Somehow the child had risen above that …

Deputy head, McGonagall, on the other hand, seemed to have an easy relationship with the boy as well as Miss Granger. They seemed to have a common history together…

.

And More

The following year, Luna Lovegood joined the school and was immediately absorbed into the Gryffindor Family as Harry's group was dubbed. Ginevra Weasley was never invited into the Chamber of Secrets, and the young Gryffindor rapidly discovered the real Harry Potter.

What annoyed Dumbledore more than anything was that they seemed to be far in advance of any of the other students in the school, in all subjects.

By the time they were in their fifth year, when Fleur Delacour's sister Gabrielle joined Hogwarts, the group was known as The Potter Harem. Gabrielle immediately became their little sister, much to the annoyance of Dumbledore, who was still trying to break up the group.

Harry's abduction the previous summer, when he won the Tri-Wizard Tournament had even more unnerved the headmaster, since Harry had returned to the school with a seriously stunned Peter Pettigrew, an unconscious and rather badly injured Lucius Malfoy and the remains of an eleven-feet long European Viper.

Cedric Diggory couldn't stop laughing at the fact that Harry had not only won, but had returned from what they dubbed _the fourth task_ with additional hunting trophies.

All Harry said was that Wormtail, Malfoy Senior and Barty Crouch were trying to resurrect Lord Voldemort, but seemed to have failed miserably. The revelation of Pettigrew, of course, forced the Minister to declare Sirius Black innocent of all crimes. Another blow for Dumbledore.

Draco became head of his house that night, when Lucius was given the Dementor's Kiss, along with Pettigrew and Barty Crouch Jr.

Harry's sixth year was a gentle progression of his life and relationships. There was shock and scandal on Draco's birthday when Harry gave him a hug. Not the strong manly hug that was so prevalent, but a close, loving hug as between brothers.

.

.

**Chapter 14: The Thirteenth Day of Christmas**

Harry's final year saw a steady increase in death eater activity. It also saw Voldemort's horcruces being eradicated one by one.

An attack on Hogsmead saw the demise of the Lestranges at the wands of the students. Dora Tonks was the investigating auror, and she was pleased to find that Harry and the Gryffindor Family had moderated their response only to the same level of lethality that the death eaters had used.

By a strange quirk of fate, Sirius inherited the Lestrange vaults and Hufflepuff's cup, the final horcrux.

On the twenty first of December, Harry suffered the first _scar attack_ since his fourth year.

"Voldemort's back."

The loving family around him assembled their equipment and prepared to leave the school.

"Professor McGonagall?"

The elder witch smiled. "Mr Potter, if you think that you are going to go and fight Tom Riddle without me, then you are sadly mistaken. Besides, he will probably come to you soon enough"

Harry grinned. "Of course, you're right. Our equipment is ready, let's celebrate Christmas and then deal with him."

By the time that Voldemort came calling on the seventh of January, Harry had enough wonderful memories of his ladies to fuel a thousand patroni. He was surrounded by enough love to vaporise a hundred dark lords and was filled with sufficient hope to return from the Punic wars with his troops intact.

He had also felt the destruction of Voldemort's soul fragment while in the throes of passion with the woman he had just asked to be his wife.

.

"Send out the half-blood Potter!"

The black-haired wizard slouched out of the main entrance followed by his 'family'.

"Afternoon Tom. Nice day for it, isn't it? What say we make this our last meeting?"

"You weak fool, of course it will be the last time we meet. Today, you will die."

.

They faced each other as though to duel. On cue, Voldemort fired an unforgivable curse at Harry. The twisting yellow bolt of the cruciatus curse missed Harry who simply groaned and side-stepped it.

Harry followed up with a lightning fast series of reductor and bone-crushing curses, finally catching Voldemort's right ankle and left shoulder which was all but vaporised.

Riddle responded with the killing curse, the rushing noise of the curling green bolt filled the air, but once more, Harry simply dodged, countering with more damaging curses, including a rather nasty boiling lead curse which splashed the dark lord's wand hand, painfully raising immediate blisters.

In pain and fuelled by anger and hatred, Voldemort simply began casting unforgivables.

"A bit restricted in your repertoire, Tom? Forgotten more magic than I ever learned, have you?"

Voldemort was beside himself with rage.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, I forgive you your sins against my family and myself. I forgive you your trespasses against your fellow man, and against nature herself. Let nature judge you!"

No one was terribly certain quite what happened next. Smiling beatifically, Harry simply said, "Lumos Angelicus."

The area around the duellists was flooded with light and sound. There was a sense of loving, of peace and tranquillity, and then it was past.

There, surrounded by the bodies of Lord Voldemort's inner circle of Death Eaters lay the robes of the darkest dark lord since Mordred Maleficius, the body within was little more than dust, the wand of yew and phoenix feather lay smouldering in the shadowed remains of a hand.

"It is over… Goodbye Tom, I hope you can find redemption somehow.

.

**Chapter 15: On The First Day After Christmas …**

Harry Potter, saviour of the wizarding world woke on the eighth of January in his bed in Gryffindor Tower. Snuggled up to him were two of his favourite witches. Hermione, his betrothed and Tonks. Somehow they had decided to share his chest as a pillow after the victory party.

As he woke, he became aware of being watched.

"Harry," the headmaster said, his voice barely above a whisper, "there is a tradition in the wizarding world. It is little known and all but ignored in these _enlightened_ days. It is known as the Law of Prima Genitor Victor, or the Law of Champion's Rights. It says that as the sole fighter in a battle decided by champions, the victor may take any unwed woman he wishes as his prize … and that includes many women.

"I would imagine that there are a number of witches who would not only be willing but eager to share your affections."

"Bur, Professor … I don't …"

Dumbledore raised his hand, cutting off Harry's protests. "It isn't just your choice, Harry. It is your duty. They will willingly bear your children. They have to bear your children. The contract is that your victory and your strength must be shared with all magical folk. Your children will ensure that the Wizarding world will endure for another thousand years."

"So if Voldemort had won …?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Tom Riddle was dead, his body a magical construct. He couldn't father an ear infection, let alone children. If he had won, then magic would have left our world forever within a few years, You must ensure that the magic is renewed …"

"As you wish, Headmaster. I always wanted a large family, after all. How many children did Merlin have?"

Dumbledore smiled. "More than a few Harry, more than a few."

.

"Harry?"

"Yes 'Mione?"

"Do you believe what the headmaster told you?"

"It's a fun legend, but …"

"It's true, Love. I know that it's true. Some of us have seen it …"

"I thought you didn't believe in divination," he teased.

"Not divination. Divine intervention, more like. Now, I want to practice making babies with you before Nym wakes up."

.

Thirteen years after the fall of Lord Voldemort, a young wizard with messy black hair and emerald eyes watched the sorting ceremony. The sorting hat was beside himself with the number of Potter offspring this year. The sorting took longer than usual, there being eighty first years to sort.

Harry Potter wondered what it would be like teaching defence to his own children. His wife, Hermione, likewise wondered about transfiguration, and his other wife, Nym, wondered how she was going to manage potions with so many children she knew.

The other ladies who shared Harry's life would have to wait until tonight to find out where the children had been sorted to; aurors Neville and Draco would find out when they got back from their latest trip abroad.

Hermione smiled. This time, the magic really wouldn't die.


	20. 20 The Angst of War

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 20 - The Angst of War**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 20 - The Angst of War**

**Summary:**

The final battle involving an insanely powerful Harry and Hermione. Blood, gore, character death, angst and general mayhem. Rated for violence and squickiness.

**Warning:**

Do NOT attempt to cast _Gravitato apertunegra_ as any matter collapsed in the gravity well tends to be spat out again as the black hole collapses. It is Hermione's invention after reading a copy of Popular Science, and just seemed like a good idea at the time.

**Notes:**

This was written as the introductory part of a longer story long since abandoned. I hope to use at least some of this in another story sometime … maybe … perhaps.

-::::::::-

**Prologue - Harry**

Harry thought, "oh Merlin! Not again!"

.

_He was walking through a field of ripe wheat. His winter-weight robes dragged slightly as they caught on the wheat. For some reason he was carrying a naked sword. _

_He looked at the forge-black blade and quillon. The metal was blackened, not with age or neglect, but as part of the process of the sword's making. The weapon was perfectly balanced._

_Harry noticed that there were human remains amongst the wheat-stalks._

_As he walked he mused on who might care for the harvest that was ready to be gathered in._

_He stalked through the field toward a group of death eaters. They were waiting for him, and he was seeking them. There seemed to be a conflict, he was aware of magic being hurled. Deadly magic._

_As he approached, he saw that the human remains were now fresh bodies, mostly of strangers._

_He passed, too, the dead faces of friends and family. Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore and Snape were the first, barely recognisable. Then Fred Weasley followed by Seamus, Colin Creevy, a large number of Slytherins he knew only by sight. Alastor Moody, the Patel twins, Bill Weasley, Oliver Wood, Natasha Malkin, Amos Diggory. Then, with a vague moment of surprise, he saw Ron and Ginny Weasley. He felt a deep pang of regret. All looked peaceful in death. Somehow relieved of their earthly strife. Like homes, he thought, once loved and now vacated by their tenants._

_He was among the death eaters and they were casting spells and hexes at him, but they passed through his body. he swung his sword at each one just once, and the death eater fell._

_At length, Harry was in front of the Dark Lord, Voldemort himself. There was a wizarding duel taking place just beyond. Harry could see Hermione there._

_Voldemort sent a number of curses at Harry, and then at last, he cast the killing curse. The curse passed through Harry without effect._

_Harry swung his sword and Voldemort collapsed, dead._

_There was a green flash and Harry dropped his sword-point. " 'Mione!…" he yelled running to her, catching her as she fell._

_Placing his sword in her pale, lifeless hands he screamed at the skies. The clouds shed their tears and his grief echoed as thunder from the unseen hills. _

_._

Harry woke with pounding pulse and tears streaming down his face. Then, by the moonlight seeping into the tent he saw her, sleeping peacefully on her bunk.

"Oh, 'Mione," he sighed, content that she was safe.

.

**1 - Hermione**

Hermione turned, deflecting another curse into a dark wizard elsewhere. She was tired and aching. Blood spattered her face and body, scorch marks and holes were held together by the remains of her frayed robes.

"_Polysectum Totalis_!" She sent a dismembering curse into the figure before her. Even tired she was more than a match for most of them.

She was vaguely aware that there was another face before her, another of the Voldemort Youth as she thought of them.

_Harry_, she thought, _where are you_?

"_Reflecto_!" The curse rebounded from her shield, bathing the would-be murderer in his own death curse.

_God, if you're out there, let him live. He's all I have now._

She slipped in something she wished were mud but smelled like blood. A curse zinged through the space her head had occupied a split moment before.

Without looking, she cast _avadra kevadra_ toward the caster of the curse, and felt rather than heard him slump. She cast _sectum sempera_ at the ankles of another Voldemort Youth, hamstringing her.

"_Demento perpetuo_!" The girl was left an empty shell.

_Lord forgive me, I kill without thought or compassion. _

The reply from the half-sane back of her mind was_ but they would do unto you with even less compassion - at least you feel bad about it._

She spun, casting a _crucio_ without malice, using it as a stunning spell. Then a series of _bombarda maxima_ to clear her way forward. Bodies, many not yet dead were spread across a swathe of the battlefield.

"_Protego_! _Reflecto_! _Polysectum totalis_! _Avadra kevadra!"_ Her curses and shields arced and shimmered. She knew without looking that she was hitting her marks.

_Harry, where are you? Are you even still alive? I need you! I can't live without you!_

Tears blurred her sight, but some second sight had her cast a shield behind her followed by a _lux therma_. She felt the wash of heat and saw the afterglow of the fireball against the blinded figures before her. She heard the screams of those burned on the edge of the fireball.

A series of _invertocorpus_ curses ended the lives of the dark ones in front of her. A curse of some sort scythed from behind her. She dropped, turning, and cast _tonnere-electra_. A lightning bolt caught the wizard in the chest and then earthed itself through those closest to him. Their screams were cut off short by the electric shock.

There was a knot of dark wizards before her casting curses and hexes. She felt herself hit by several. The pain was incredible, but the adrenaline allowed her to continue.

A new spell left her lips, "_Gravitato apertunegra_!"

She felt herself losing consciousness as the ball of absolute blackness left her wand. Marble-sized, it screamed as the tortured atmosphere was dragged into it. She heaved as she saw six wizards ripped apart by the tidal forces around the black hole, their remains being then swallowed whole.

Her concentration slipped as she pitched forward behind the low pile of bodies that she had made, and the blackness inverted. becoming a white fountain as the gravity well destabilised. A blast of heavy particles sleeted into those around her, but she was protected by the bodies.

_I wish you could see me, Harry. You'd be proud of me. Well, for the fact that I can survive._

"Harry..." She lost consciousness with his name on her lips.

Time passed in the way of things and she became once more aware. Her body hurt, and she ached abominably in those few places where she didn't hurt. She could feel a trickle of blood from her nose.

Without moving she cast her mind about her. No one was taking any notice, they thought she was dead. Her wand was in her hand.

_Harry, I love you! If you're dead, I'll be with you soon. If you live, then come save me!_

Through slitted eyes she gauged who was around her.

"_Invertocorpus_!" A death eater fell.

"_Bombardus_!" Another.

She apparated herself to a private place by the lake.

"_Electocutio_!" Well, it was private now, anyway.

She took a drink and cast healing charms on herself. A couple of holes refused to close, but they were only small burns. She ate the last of her supplies, replacing what her stomach had lost in the horror of her black-hole curse. She found what she thought of as her caffeine substitute potion; she prayed that it would keep her alert for long enough. She finished her blood replenishing potion and prepared to re-enter the battle.

Her thoughts and prayers were with Harry.

_Lord, who or whatever you are, please let me live long enough to see Harry again. Please let us prevail for what is right and good in this world, but please let me see Harry alive again before I die._

A witch or wizard's prayer carries its own magic.

For a moment, she considered her dead. Fred first a few days past, then Ginny and Ron when the battle began. She'd seen Ginny hit by some curse that caused her to haemorrhage internally. Lupin had levitated her to the infirmary and come back to say that the girl wouldn't make it. Then Ron had been hit by a _demento_ curse of some sort, and then, while stood mindless, by some other curse. She had taken him to Madame Pomfrey herself. Ron was dead in mind if not in body. She knew that other friends were dead.

She spent a moment longer to mourn her friend and her boyfriend. her only regret being that they hadn't finally resolved their differences. Well, those quarrels were irrelevant now. Death levels all differences, she thought.

Death eaters and dark wizards and the inevitable Voldemort Youth stood between her and the fray. Taking a deep breath, and steeling herself she prepared to try to cast multiple _gravitato apertunegra_ and _tonnere-electra_ spells. She just hoped that she was strong enough and awake enough.

A dozen drifting singularities and lightning bolts had done their work, indeed, the magical residues were still interacting with each other, and there was a terrible storm of energies roiling behind her.

_Lord forgive us all. Have mercy on my soul. Have mercy on all of our souls. Forgive me for taking these lives. Let me see him again, please!_

As she began cutting a path through the dark forces she heard a great cry go up. She had skirted the battle, largely, and was now on the rise before the castle.

Looking, she saw a magical storm crossing the field of battle.

_Harry! I must go to him!_

She could see Voldemort and his central cabal, and she started working her way toward the place that she knew Harry would be heading for.

All of her thoughts were on her friend as she battled toward Voldemort's entourage.

"Oi! Mudblood!" It sounded like Goyle senior.

Without looking round or even thinking, she cast a _reflecto_ and an immediate _avada kavadra_ in the direction of the voice.

"I said, look at me mud ..." The voice was cut off by death.

Hermione arrived at Voldemort's position just after Harry. They were already locked in combat.

She duelled with several of the death eaters, she was never really sure who. These were more able wizards who had real defences, not the half-trained fools she had been slaughtering before.

_Harry, I'm here for you. Finish him quickly!_

She deflected another curse.

"_Crucio_! _Demento_! _Protego_! _Expelliamus_! _Protego_! _Deflecto_! _Avada kavadra_!"

Her spells and shields flickered and strobed.

_Harry, keep to it. I am here Love._

Her concentration flickered and green light flashed. She took a curse below her left breast. Where did **that** thought come from?

"_Sectum_! _Imperio_!" She caused the death-eater's next killing curse to hit his neighbour.

"_Invertocorpus_!" He died also.

She felt herself becoming sluggish and dark clouds surrounded her vision, but still she fought on.

_Harry, please finish him. I can't carry on much longer. I need to tell you! Harry! I love you!_

She saw the green light blossom around her, and she felt herself slipping away.

"Harry ... "

She dimly saw Voldemort crumple and felt the Dark Lord's will fade from the world.

"Harry ... I love ... you ..."

Darkness took her swiftly.

.

**2 - Harry**

Harry's eyes opened. He lay in a crumpled heap in the forest. By Merlin's Beard he was cold.

He was wandless for the moment, his wand, actually a dead death-eater's, had been broken by Voldemort. He crawled to where he had left the two Hallows and his own wand hidden in a hollow tree root. A series of warming charms later and he felt less dreadful.

There were supplies left behind in the death eaters' camp, so Harry ate and drank. There was no point in going into battle on an empty stomach. At the very least, it gave him something to bring back up.

With a grim determination, Harry set off toward the school. He hoped Hermione was all right.

Already he could hear the zap and zing of a magical battle as he was leaving the densest part of the forest. He came across a group of death eaters. Within a second they were dead.

_Merlin forgive me, but I cannot afford the time to avoid killing. My friends need me now! Hermione needs me now!_

A scene from Hell greeted him as the school came into view. Not only were the wards down, but he could see that the eternity charms were too, and parts of the school were showing every slight of the past thousand and more years. The astronomy tower was completely missing.

He could see where Voldemort was by the flicker of green light. Harry went by the shortest route possible, through the body of the battle.

_'Mione, hang on, I'm coming!_

Curses and hexes sped toward him, but in the hyperaware state he was now in, he wasn't even conscious of them, he blocked and deflected wordlessly. Harry's wand flickered incessantly, curses flying faster than words, death dealt in sentences of a single thought.

"Hermione! Keep going Love, I'm coming!"

A curse flew, and Harry vaguely observed that the pink _Hermione_ hex made the death eater it hit break down in tears of anguish that lasted until he was hit by a deflected killing curse. _Even her name is powerful magic_, he thought.

A ball of fury surrounded Harry as he fought his way toward the Dark Lord. Hexes and curses bouncing from his shields, hexes and curses being launched with arrow-fine precision, and the spitting magical interactions leaving a coruscating trail of deadly energies behind him.

_Oh Merlin! I'm climbing over dead bodies. Please don't make 'Mione have to do this!_

"_Phobius Maxima_!"

A shadowy grey cloud of elemental fear swallowed a large group of Voldemort Youth. They became more than fearful, but were frozen to the ground in their terror.

"**Run! Abandon your posts! Flee for your lives! … Fly!**" Harry's _sonorus_ enhanced voice boomed out. They broke and ran.

He could see a ball of wizarding fury in the distance. _'Mione! Keep going Love. I'm coming for you__!_

He pressed on, his wand now producing a flicker of green as Harry cast continual death curses punctuated by the occasional _deflecto _or _protego. _

_Heaven forgive me for what I do. Hermione, please forgive me, I am steeped in death and murder. Oh Merlin! Please let the killing come to an end!_

At last, Harry faced the death eaters guarding Voldemort's back.

This time it wasn't possible to scythe them down the way he had the foot-soldiers of evil. These were Voldemort's Dark Generals.

He began picking them off one by one.

Voldemort saw him, and there was fear in his lidless eyes. Harry could almost hear Riddles thought: _But you're dead …_

Harry issued his challenge in parseltongue. "Ehrshhh ahh-thhhh shhhhighhh athhhh shhhuffff assssss!"

Voldemort took up the challenge. "The half-blood brat is mine! I shall kill the pig-spawn myself."

They squared up to each other, and duelled. All the time Harry could feel Voldemort's thoughts beating on the outside of his skull. Inside, Harry was thinking about Hermione. For him, the duel was fought on automatic. Harry couldn't be defeated easily, not by the Elder Wand that was rightfully his.

_'Mione, if we ever get out of this alive, I want you to know that I love you. I always have. Since I first set eyes on you on the train._

The wands were now locked, the magical flames licking at an invisible barrier between the two combatants. Tom broke off.

"_Avada kevadra_!" The two wands flared green almost simultaneously.

Harry was hit first but the elder wand could not kill its master, the curse rebounded. The flares of two death curses hit Voldemort together bathing the entire battlefield in their baleful green glow, a hundred times brighter than any single killing curse. Voldemort crumpled and the form of Tom Riddle was revealed. Again, handsome of form but now very much dead.

"... 'Mione!"

He ran to her as she collapsed, and caught her, sobbing.

To her pale, still form he quietly said, "Hermione, I love you."

To the sky, he simply screamed, and the sky screamed back with a sudden storm. Lightnings danced and rain thundered, and the Boy Who Lived knelt, huddled with the still form of the woman he loved in his arms while the rains tenderly washed them of the blood that was on their hands.

.

**3 - In lux aeternum**

Although there were still skirmishes taking place, Harry ignored them all. Carrying Hermione through the battlefield, tears washing his face, all fell silent as he passed.

With heavy steps Harry, The Man Who Prevailed, trod the paths of Hogwarts toward the infirmary, knowing that he would not last the night.

Those with eyes to see may have been aware of the ring on Harry's finger and the two wands, one of Holly. now broken by his final curse, the other of dark Elder-Wood, flickering darkly in time with its master's mood.

At last he came to the infirmary. An ancient mediwich met him and bade him put the girl on a bed.

"She's dead ... Hermione's dead."

The mediwitch shook her head.

"No, Mr Potter, she is not. She's fainted."

He looked stunned. Disbelieving, yet relieved.

He looked at Hermione, and saw yet the slight flutter of breath in her throat, the faint pulse at her temple and the pink of her skin, not the deathly pallor he would have sworn to have seen on the battlefield.

The mediwitch cast and recast spells.

"Miss Granger is exhausted, Mr Potter, and so are you. I take it the battle is won, since I don't hear much noise now, and the casualties are much fewer. Especially after that storm."

Grimly he replied. "Yes, they're mostly dead. Voldemort is gone."

The witch spelled potions and charms into Hermione's still form, and the death-like faint became the sleep of the over-taxed. Hermione sighed and turned slightly, and fell deeper into a healthy if deep slumber.

"Now you, Mr Potter."

"No, I'll be all right. If you don't mind me staying here with 'Mione, I'll rest in the chair. I have nothing left but the need to rest. And maybe to have a bite."

Harry sat and within seconds, holding Hermione's hand, he was asleep.

Hermione dreamed -

_She was floating. She knew that she was dead. There were her friends, and Dumbledore, and so many others. There was brightness all around and everything seemed to be in shades of golden white._

_Ron greeted her distantly, Ginny more warmly. Sirius told her welcome. Fred waved his fingers. Dumbledore said that she wasn't due yet._

_She wanted to know why_

_Sirius said that she wasn't truly dead, that she was between worlds, but that she had to go back._

_And Harry, she had asked. I won't go back if he is here, she had said._

_He is alive and waiting for you, they had said, but he will not live without you. The two of you have unfinished business, they had said._

_And another had said, "YOU ARE FORGIVEN YOUR SINS, BOTH OF YOU, AND WILL BE WELCOMED WHEN YOUR LIVES FINALLY COME TO THEIR PROPER CLOSE."_

_And she had been told, go now, and be at peace for there is much to do before you come to this place at last._

_Your only immediate task is to tell him, Ron had said. He said that he gave them his blessing and that he knew that she and Ron were never destined to be together._

_And Ginny had kissed her and told her to make him happy._

_Now forget._

And so she slept.

Harry had dreamed also.

_Ginny had come to him in a shaft of brilliant light. She had told him that he and Hermione had her blessing and that he should make Hermione happy._

_Ron had appeared, and said that Hermione was always destined to be Harry's partner. He too gave Harry his blessing._

_The two of you have unfinished business, they had said._

_And another had said, "YOU ARE FORGIVEN YOUR SINS, BOTH OF YOU, AND WILL BE WELCOMED WHEN YOUR LIVES FINALLY COME TO THEIR PROPER CLOSE."_

_And he had been told, go now, and be at peace for there is much to do before you come to this place at last._

_Ginny had said that Harry's hardest task was to tell Hermione how much he loved her._

_And Ron had hugged him and told him to make her happy for him._

_Now forget._

And Harry, too, slipped into a less painful, healing sleep.

.

When Harry woke and before the dream finally slipped from his grasp, he looked at the young witch asleep on the hospital bed and wondered how she would react to his dream. He decided to wait and see what the day might bring. And the dream passed from his mind.

Hermione woke to pain and aches and a hand holding hers.

"Harry ,,,"

"It's all right 'Mione, it's all over."

She silently wondered what her dream had meant, other than wish fulfilment. She put it aside, and within minutes, it was forgotten.

"Harry, I have news if you can take it."

"Ron and Ginny, 'Mione?"

She nodded.

"I know, 'Mione, that they're hurt, They're over there."

He indicated two beds bearing two Weasleys, the ginger hair was unmistakable.

They went to their lovers, and saw that they were both unconscious. Hermione described to Harry what had happened.

Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

"Mr Potter, Miss Granger, the news is not good. I am sorry to be so blunt, but we do not really have time to be gentle at the moment.

"Mr Weasley was hit by a dementation curse, there is nothing left of your friend. What's more, he has cursed injuries that he is unlikely to survive. Miss Weasley has been hit by something like an _impacto_ curse, she has suffered internal injuries not unlike the injury Miss Granger suffered a few years ago. To make it worse, her internal injuries include some severe bleeding inside her brain. If she lives, which I doubt, then she will be severely disabled at the very least. I'm sorry, both of you."

They thanked the mediwitch for her candour and she left them with their partners.

Harry was shaken to his core as he held his sobbing best friend. He looked at the two hospital beds, the shocks of ginger hair and the pale faces.

The war had been won, and Harry had destroyed the Dark Lord's power as that same dark power had been on the brink of conquering all. He could hardly believe it, even a full day on.

Harry looked at Ron's still features.

_You stupid git, Ron. Why did you have to be the one who was in the way of Dolohov's curse?_

And then toward Ginny.

_Ginny, why did you have to leave the shelter of your hiding place. I needed you safe._

And in the back of his mind, a tiny voice said that it was because it was destined to be thus. And so it was.

.


	21. 21 Ancient Grudges

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 21 - Ancient Grudges **

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

.

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 21 - Ancient Grudges **

.

Beyond the Triwizard Cup, Harry could see Cedric Diggory being pursued by the biggest acromantula imaginable.

.

Knowing that the only spell of any use whatsoever was the spider-banishing curse, Harry fired off that exact spell.

.

"Arania exemai!"

.

Unfortunately, Harry's aim was off and the curse clipped the Triwizard trophy causing it to go flying into the air, ending its unexpected journey immediately in front of the giant spider just as its mandibles closed on it.

.

As soon as the cup and the spider made contact they disappeared in a swirl of light.

.

"A portkey … " Harry whispered as the hedges of the maze whithered and disappeared.

.

Harry helped Cedric limp toward the stands, and then the two of them were forced to recount the reason for the disappearance of the trophy.

.

-::::::::-

.

Aragog, for it was none other, was startled, surprised and just a little perplexed to have been sent riding an unscheduled portkey to a desination unknown.

.

He was too old to want to travel any more, and he didn't like the spinning. He was starting to get just a little bit upset by the time the portkey deposited him in a dark and unfamiliar graveyard.

.

"Kill it, Wormtail!"

.

Aragog turned slowly to see a cowering, snivelling rodent of a wizard and some kind of baby-thing. The cowering, snivelling creature was frozen with fear. Pathetic!

.

Ah, the baby-thing. He knew that voice, he knew the sounds and smell of that one. It was the wizard that had done wrong by Friend Hagrid.

.

Aragog was loyal to his friends and family, and he had a long, long memory. he scuttled forward, shrugging off the twisting yellow and burning green magics that the baby-thing threw at him. Aragog knew that his armoured hide was resistant to all wizard magic, and it was so strong that even the killing curse couldn't penetrate fully.

.

A venomous bite and the not-friend, the enemy of Hagrid was ended. The other wizard, the rat-face one had fainted. Aragog didn't like the smell of that one, it was too unclean to eat, the same with the enemy.

.

Aragog vaguely wondered, having been around wizards, if the cup would take him home.

.

-::::::::-

.

The Daily Prophet announced the following day that the Triwizard Cup had been won by a giant spider, and only Hagrid, Harry and a select few knew what had happened in those few minutes between the end of the tournament and Aragog's reappearance.

.

-::::::::-

.

"Hagrid, I have to ask … when did Aragog hatch?"

.

"Well, Professor Dumbledore, like most spiders, Acromantulas hatch during high summer. I suppose I picked him up sometime in August, so I'd guess late July. Why d'yer ask, Professor Dumbledore, Sir?"

.

The pensive headmaster just smiled, saying, "oh, noreason Hagrid, just curiosity …"

.

Lord Voldemort never returned, seemingly spider venom was a power that Tom Riddle only knew about at the end.


	22. 22 Not With a Whimper

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 22 - Not With a Whimper**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

.

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 22 - Not With a Whimper**

.

Harry looked down at the broken remains of Albus Dumbledore and sneered.

"How does it feel to have been beaten by your own weapon, old man? To have been outclassed, outmanoeuvred, outgunned and finally offed by a creature of your own devising?"

Harry didn't expect an answer from the barely moving form, and so he wasn't disappointed.

"You are the one who was responsible for so many deaths. No, you didn't hold your wand to their heads, but you did it anyway. My parents, Cedric, Sirius, Neville, Luna, Ron, Ginny, Daphne, Susan – all my friends dead at your hand. Lupin, Tonks, Minerva, Filius, Hagrid – even Snape. All your fault, and at the last, your wand was the one that killed me. My life, my love, my sun and my moon. You destroyed my wife, my Hermione."

He took a deep breath and looked around the shattered remains of the school that had been his home for so long.

"You even killed Hogwarts. Well, Albus, I hope you're happy now. I'm sure that wherever you are, you're still being your same, arrogant, self-opinionated self. Well, you're dead now, and I soon will be.

"I don't give a toss for Wizarding Britain, though I will try to take down Tom when I go."

.

Harry collected the pouch belt he had prepared, the pouches with extension charms expanded to weightlessly carry several hundred pounds of wax-like material and a few thin, laboratory glass vials of a sluggish liquid.

He carefully checked the stasis and shrinking charms on the vials.

With a heel-turn, Harry disappeared with a quiet pop.

.

"Hello Tom, I thought we should get this over with. There are a few things you need to know before I die."

"Harry Potter … I'm so glad you've come to realise …"

Harry raised his hand.

"No need for the pleasantries, Tom. But I need to unburden myself first.

"First off, don't bother looking for any of my friends or the Order of the Phoenix – they're already dead – murdered by Albus Dumbledore, spent as pawns against your people. So's Dumbledore. I killed him off myself. If you have a pensieve, I can show you?"

Voldemort shook his head. "No, I will savour the dream."

"The other thing … well, if you'd be so good as to cast a 'finite' on my pouch belt, you can see."

"Why?"

"It's transfigured is all. You'll understand when you see what it is."

Voldemort nodded. "_Finite_."

The transfiguration on the pouch belt collapsed, revealing Nagini. The undetectable extension charms on the pouches collapsed, spilling the contents around Harry. The shrinking charms on the contents of the thin glass vials collapsed along with the stasis charms on that same liquid, spilling several tens of litres of well-shaken and heavily compressed nitroglycerine all over the packs of semtex.

Voldemort's last impression was of redness. Harry's was one of satisfaction and relief.

The smoking crater that had been the Riddle Manor was further enlarged by the spontaneous detonation of Voldemort's stock of dark artefacts, but no one was there to notice, as almost every death eater had been close to the mansion.

Harry stood on the memory of the wooden floor, his gaze locked on the memory of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Harry saw shadows oozing out of the blasted crater, from the strewn rubble and the burning debris … shadows that attacked Riddle and dragged him, screaming, down to the netherworld.

A brilliant light surrounded the Boy-Who-Sacrificed-Himself, he smiled and he was gone, finally, on the last great adventure.


	23. 23 Causality

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 23 - Causality**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

.

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 23 - Causality**

.

A dying teenaged boy lay in the hospital.

His outsized clothes were in an evidence bag, but even though he yet drew breath, this was a murder enquiry.

The boy, one Harry James Potter, eighteen today, black hair, green eyes, severely underweight with an unusual scar over one eye was dying.

His parents had died in a car accident, victims of a drunken driver. The scar was a result.

The relatives claimed the boy was incurably criminal (whatever _that_ was supposed to mean), and that he was an inveterate drug user.

There was no evidence of either. Not anywhere.

What there was, however, was evidence of years of neglect and abuse. That and the fact that the boy's outsized cousin had shot the boy through the head with a nail gun for no apparent reason.

The entry wound was small and neat, at the back of the skull. The exit wound, however…

The inch-diameter hole in the front of the boy's head had sickened the entire hospital staff, the police were just as shaken. The careless brutality of it was more than shocking.

.

"How long?"

The brown haired girl with tear-streaked cheeks was past grief. Now she was waiting to mourn her boyfriend. She had spent hours with the police, helping them to put together a case against the three Dursleys.

"The end is very close …"

.

The slow beep-beep of the heart monitor accelerated for a moment and fell into a monotone.

"Harry!"

"He's gone. I'm sorry. Time of death logged at twenty-one forty-five, thirty first July nineteen ninety eight."

As his dying brain shut down, he heard his girlfriend call his name. He heard the doctor report his death, and then unreality took over.

In the back of his mind, he vaguely thought it was true. As you die your life really does flash before your eyes …

His mind brought forward events. Strange events. Inexplicable events. A teacher with blue hair. Being chased onto the school roof. A talking constrictor. A letter with strange, loopy, green writing.

"What if I'd opened that envelope …"


	24. 24 Recursion

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 24 - Recursion**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

This chapter dedicated to _The Survivors of Dies Irae_ - you know who you are.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

.

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 24 - Recursion**

.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Look at this … it's a bit odd …"

Harry looked at the passage that Hermione was indicating.

It read:

_97Zit3rvrfKkzf!ucD8PAeHw5!S!RXeQ0tM4adZYo_  
>Y4jwnCACrrch9Prx10&amp;NcQGCEcb2FmGDj2nPsU_<br>wPJBUrGtCQI9vJ!ej5vbSyni182gEpAkckvXU7Va_  
>MwHrOPy4Qjjpgx+3dk5sxWFKSmxY1qUTm15PZ_<br>n9!Mnk1PKyZux8ejIYKC&CMMurC8CCsEAYLxbc_

"What book is that, Hermione?"

"It's a book about the theory of magical causality, but this is an example, and I can't figure it out …"

"Well, all those mixed symbols and letters look like some nonsense code to me."

"That's it …"

.

Three hours later, Harry's bushy-haired friend was smiling, if perplexedly.

"You decoded it, Hermione?"

She nodded.

"It still doesn't make any sense though …"

She pointed at her results. Written on the parchment was the message:

_Hidden Tales from The Chamber of Secrets, Chapter 24: Recursion  
>ht tp = www,fanfiction,net  s / 7891035 / 24 / Hidden_Tales_From_The_Chamber_of_Secrets_


	25. 25 World's End

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 25 - World's End**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

A special Mayan _End Of The World_ plot bunny inspired by Ali_Cat on the Snorkack discussion group ...

"Every generation believes it is the last. It is the vanity of mankind for them to believe the world can not go on without them and yet, somehow, it does."

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

.

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 25 - World's End**

.

'Yes,' Voldemort thought, 'the winter solstice was a VERY auspicious day.'

The dark lord looked at the huddled mass of dying flesh that was The-Boy-Who-Lived.

.

It was getting late and the sky was darkening, and the Dark Lord was feeling the chill of Midwinter 2012.

Time to end it ... "AVADRA KAVADRA!"

.

Lord Voldemort smiled, an expression that put fear into the hearts of his allies and enemies alike. He trew back his head and, for the first time in decades, truly laughed.

.

His expression turned to one of mystified curiosity. He stopped laughing and tilted his head.

.

Mystification and curiosity gave way to concern and then to horror as he realised what was happening.

.

One by one, without fanfare or fuss, the stars were going out. The sky was dark but for the moon.

.

Suddenly the moon went out.

Lord Voldemort's final thought was, "oh, shit!" - just before the world simply ceased to exist.

.


	26. 26 The Power

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 26 - The Power**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

.

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 26 - The Power**

.

Harry's thoughts returned to the Department of Mysteries. He remembered Ron being attacked by a swimming brain with tentacles.

He suddenly realised that the Skellegra had released him and then he had heard thoughts …

.

"Mr Potter?"

Harry looked at the mediwitch blankly. She decided to allow him to remain for a while, he was obviously still shocked.

.

Harry's thoughts were still on those … creatures.

_There is one with sufficient power to return us._

_We shall use its strength. Homeworld calls._

_These creatures believe in trade._

_(Agreement)_

_We must unbind its strength. We will give also a gift._

_Of what manner?_

_Something of our own psychic technology._

_(Agreement)_

He had felt a surge of power and … a tension released before even more of the party was disabled.

.

Feeling light headed, Harry remembered his meeting with Dumbledore this very evening. His anger at Dumbledore for concealing the truth from Harry, blaming the interfering old fool for Sirius' death.

Harry was no fool, he knew that he should have listened to Hermione. He knew that the treacherous house-elf, Kreacher, had lied. He knew that his own hot-headed, precipitate departure from the school was blame-worthy also.

"Harry, you will be staying with your relatives this summer, and I must ask that you not contact Mr Weasley or Miss Granger during your stay."

By the time that the old fool had managed to get so far, Harry was long over the anger event horizon and his intellect no was longer in contact with either his sanity or reality.

With a piece of music running through his head he started daydreaming. It was the theme from a muggle television series that Dudley liked. Harry was fascinated by the opening titles that ended with a cartoon man in a bath being stamped on by a gigantic foot.

Harry idly imagined the self same cartoon foot descending …

.

"Poppy? How is he?"

The mediwitch shook her head. "I fear that unless we are able to reach him soon, we may lose him altogether."

At that point a heard of red-eyed cattle was driven through the hospital wing by ghostly figures on horseback. Harry was watching in wide-eyed amusement and giggling softly to himself as they rode through the back wall..

"The aurors are still trying to figure out what happened to … Albus. They say it looks for all the world as though he was … stood on, crushed like a bug by a gigantic foot."

.


	27. 27 A Light Sided Family

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 27 - A Light Sided Family**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

.

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 27 - A Light Sided Family**

.

Without turning away from the window where the outskirts of Birmingham were going past, Harry spoke.

"Are all your family wizards?" he asked, wanting to know more about his new friend's family.

"Er – yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

Harry froze. "Why not?"

Ron looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Your accountant cousin, is he magical?"

"No," Ron replied, still not getting it.

"Is that why you don't talk about him? Because he isn't magical?" Harry asked.

"Er…"

Ron blushed a crimson hue.

"Well, not exactly ... I mean ..."

Ron's voice dropped to barely a whisper, "we don't really like to talk about it, I mean ... an _accountant_? That's kind of ... dark, isn't it?"

Harry nodded. "It's okay Ron, I understand."

.


	28. 28 A Case of Conscience

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 28 - A Case of Conscience**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

.

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 28 - A Case of Conscience**

.

Percy Weasley was distraught. His pet rat, Scabbers, had run away while he'd been cleaning out his cage.

He didn't dare go downstairs and tell his parents because Headmaster Dumbledore was down there talking to them. He'd heard a few words in passing, but hadn't stopped to eavesdrop. He'd heard something about Harry Potter and muggle relatives, but that was all.

Percy knew who Harry Potter was, though. He was the Boy-Who-Lived, hero of the wizarding world. Percy was a bit taken aback, though. Living with muggles?

.

Scabbers, a rather tatty looking rat and some-times second-rate wizard and Death Eater was horrified.

He'd overheard the words of _The Great Albus Dumbledore_ and had been sickened. He had met Lily's sister and her obnoxious husband shortly before the Potters' wedding.

Heartless, craven coward he might be, but he had loved the child, and Lily had always encouraged Peter in his endeavours. He wouldn't wish Petunia Dursley on The Dark Lord, let alone on young Harry.

For the first time in his life, Peter Pettigrew felt something needed to be done, even though it would cost him his freedom and, in all probability, his life. He discovered, perhaps rather late in life, that he had a conscience.

Peter remembered vaguely where Lily's sister lived, somewhere, in Surrey. A place with an odd name. Moaning? Whining? Something like that.

He set off, living rough as a rat and travelling at night as a human. He stole food and tramped roads.

Travelling muggle style was an eye opener for the pure-blood. He found that his ragged, wild appearance engendered a mixture of fear, revulsion and pity in the average muggle. He was offered lifts in the back of trucks, the odd bite to eat and the odd drink.

In Yeovil, he discovered the Salvation Army hostel. A night in a bed, a wash and fresh, if second-hand clothes and a hot meal, all for the price of a little effort and singing some muggle religious songs.

In Oxford, he took advantage of the same thing, and then on to Woking, a town in Surrey.

.

At the station, he found a map of the county. Peering closely, he found the twin towns of Little and Greater Whinging. Three days later, he arrived in Little Whinging and found himself horrified at the regular, neat, identical boxes that passed for houses. These places were nothing like the old towns and cities Peter had passed through with their pleasant mish-mash of architectural styles.

Little Whinging, Peter thought, was the epitome of stultifying, mind numbing, boredom made real. It looked depressingly familiar as Peter worked his way through the residential estates.

He remembered, vaguely, the names of the roads in the area they'd visited being pleasant garden names.

He scampered along a road, a featureless route through a featureless area. It was daylight, but Peter had decided to travel in rat form while searching.

Then he saw him. Harry Potter. He was unmistakable, the spitting image of a young James Potter.

The six year old boy was being pursued by a gang of howling boys, each easily twice Harry's weight and led by one who made each of the other overweight bullies look scarecrow thin.

Peter followed and witnessed the boy being roughed up. He finally made his way to Number 4 Privet Drive, where Peter heard the boy being yelled at by what would turn out to be Harry's Uncle, Vernon.

Peter flinched when he heard the sound of a meaty fist impacting the boy. Then he heard the voice tell the boy to get in there and that he wouldn't be let out until he had to go to school on Monday.

Peter, tears streaming across his face resolved to do what he could to make things right.

.

Not knowing what else to do, Peter began the journey into London. He knew that there was a back way into Diagon Alley from one of the London Tube Stations, a way that was all but unknown and rarely used. A way that didn't require a wand for access.

.

It was Wednesday when Peter finally slipped into the shadows of a side-tunnel in Leicester Square tube station. He easily found the disillusioned portal and walked the sloping tunnel toward the far end of Knockturn Alley, emerging in Magical London by way of a shadowed arch and a flight of steps up from basement level.

Peter, once more as Wormtail, made his way carefully to The Twisted Broom, a rather dingy pub in Basic Alley, a short cul-de-sac off of Knockturn. Peter had a small stash of coin and a spare, untraceable wand that he had left there in a well-concealed space deep under the foundations, accessible only to a rat animagus.

.

Now magically empowered and with a little cash, Peter found his way to one of the rag shops and bought himself an old but serviceable set of robes and a cloak with a deep hood. He also bought a little information on who was known to be incorruptible in the Aurors. He was given a name. Amelia Bones, the current Director of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement.

Dressed in shadows, he made his way to the entrance to the Ministry of Magic, and entered, requesting an urgent interview with Madame Bones.

.

After waiting for nearly two hours he was asked inside the office, flanked by two aurors.

"Mr Peters, what can I do for you?"

"I need to give you information and a confession. My name isn't Peters, it's Pettigrew, Peter Pettigrew."

He threw back his hood, revealing his face.

.

Padfoot lay in the shadows of the wooden shelf that was the prisoner's bed. The scruffy, black dog felt the dementors retreat, and took his opportunity.

A few seconds later, an emaciated, wild-eyed man with long, unkempt black hair stood in the cell.

Instead of a bowl of gruel and dry bread being pushed through the hatch at the bottom of the door, two burly guards flanked the now open cell door.

"Sirius Black, it is time. Come with us. If you resist, we'll have to drag you."

Sirius nodded and walked meekly out, knowing that the 'wands' the guards carried were personally keyed and his taking one would trigger an alarm and bring the dementors. As he was taken out of the vast stone structure, he was handed a thick, woollen cloak which he wrapped around himself hungrily.

.

Sirius was taken to the concrete dock and bundled into a small boat. Once on the mainland, he was portkeyed to the Auror Division in the Ministry where he was told to shower and dress quickly. He was taken to the canteen, still under guard and given a meal, and then he was led into the Courtroom of The Wizangamot.

A lightning hearing later with Veritas Serum and Pensieve evidence and Sirius Black was once more a free man, reinstated into wizarding society and with a recompense for wrongful imprisonment. He was asked to remain in the chamber for the next trial.

Peter Pettigrew was chained. He pleaded guilty on all counts and asked that he be allowed to make a statement for the record, and that he be allowed to pass on information to his former friend, Sirius Black before sentence was executed.

He was given leave to so do and then, before the court, told them what he knew of Lord Voldemort's plans to achieve immortality, and after answering every question and making his closing statements, he asked for the sentence to be execution for his crimes.

"Why do you want to die?"

"I confess that I am a coward. If HE comes back, then I shall suffer terribly. If I am dead then I cannot betray anyone ever again."

The presiding member, a Madam Griselda Marchbanks simply said, so noted and so sentenced. "You will be given one hour to pass your information to Lord Black."

.

Sirius, wandless and still weak, sat in the interview room opposite Wormtail.

"Don't say anything, Padfoot."

Sirius took that to mean that Wormtail wanted to pass on information that he didn't want anyone else hearing.

"Harry is still alive. He's staying with Lily's sister. They starve and beat him. That's why I came to confess. I couldn't bear the thought of little Harry living with those …animals! Worse! And you, stuck in that …"

The convicted murderer and Death Eater took a moment to pull himself together.

"They still live in the same place at …" He choked.

"Damn, hiding charms! … One hand with no thumb. The stuff Madam Burnleaf used to feed her chameleon lizards … ummm …talking rubbish without an ell. The town is Little Whinging. Take care of him, Sirius, and try not to curse my name too much ... I tried to put things right at the end."

He lowered his voice to barely more than a whisper, knowing that Sirius' animagus senses would hear him. "Goodbye, my old friend, and don't trust Dumbledore … he has plans for Harry, a prophesy and he's scheming with Molly Weasley, but that's all I know from overheard snippets. Take care and watch your back."

Sirius stood. "Goodbye Peter."

He turned and left, determined to put his and his godson's life to rights.

.


	29. 29 Blood Protection

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 29 - Blood Protection**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 29 - Blood Protection**

.

"Bone of the father unknowingly taken, you will restore your son …

"Flesh of the servant, willingly given , you will restore your master …

"Blood of the enemy, drawn in battle, you will restore your enemy …"

As Harry watched, the glow from potion in the stone cauldron changed from a malevolent scarlet to a blinding white.

There was a sound like "GLURP!"

The light seemed to ... congeal. The glow became patchy.

"Glup! GLURRRRRRRP!"

Harry could see lumps forming in the liquid as a wash of magic caused both lumpy liquid and cauldron to vanish.

From the steam and smoke arose a tall, reptillian figure, lipless and with glowing red eyes.

The pale figure inhaled through slits that sat in the centre of the noseless face.

"Robe me, my servant," the creature hissed weakly.

Wormtail, still bleeding, struggled a robe around the bluish-pale Voldemort's shoulders. The tall figure was breathing heavily as though exhausted by the effort of being resurrected.

"My wand, Wormtail."

Pettigrew handed the Dark Lord his wand - thirteen inches of yew with one of Fawkes' tail feathers for its core.

"Wormtail, your ar ..."

Whatever Voldemort was about to say was lost in a long, drawn-out, wheezing cough.

"Your arm, Worghhhh, ahhh-ahhh-AHHHH!"

The one calling himself 'Flight of Death' collapsed to his knees, fighting for breath. The blazing eyes now had a bluish tings, the red tongue, likewise, was discoloured.

The creature's pale skin now held a distinct cyan hue.

Terrified and fascinated respectively, Wormtail and Harry Potter watched Tom Riddle struggle for breath, then watched him collapse into unconsciousness and, after few minutes, cease breathing.

Wormtail passed out from blood loss, and the magical bindings fastening Harry to Tom Riddle Sernior's tombstone collapsed.

Weakly, Harry punched the sky and yelled. "AB Negative for the win!"

As he gathered three bodies to take back to Hogwarts, he mused vaguely that Tom Riddle couldn't have known anything about blood types.


	30. 30 Born as The Seventh Month Dies

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 30 - Born as The Seventh Month Dies**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 30 - Born as The Seventh Month Dies**

.

The Sydney Sorcerer of 19 June 1980 carried the story first, of interest only to those Antipodean wizards and witches who knew the man. It was tucked away on page 4 with a photograph of the man shaking hands with the Australian Minister for Magic, Bruce Lambert.

_**Chief Hit Wizard Bruce Tuckerman Retires**_

_Bruce Tuckerman retired this week after fifteen years of service in the ADMLE. His famous involvement in the Bunyip Uprising of 1969 which earned him the Victoria Star was the first of many engagements with the creatures and the forces of chaos that make their homes in the Australian Heartlands._

_Mr Tuckerman, a widower, has expressed his desire to see the world from his yacht, The Flying Jumbuck, before returning to teach defence at Wooloomooloo School of Magic._

_We wish Mr Tuckerman a long and peaceful career in teaching._

Bruce had already set sail by the time the story had run in the paper. His magically enhanced sailing boat was pointing northward into the heart of the Pacific Ocean. His plans - to island hop and to travel the coasts of the Pacific rim, rounding the Horn of Africa and then to make his way to Britain where his mother had been born.

Britain ... to see the land of his great, great, great grandfather. Not that you would necessarily recognise Bruce Tuckerman as a British descendant. Like many of his fellow Australian wizards, he had the black, curly hair of the Australian Natives, the broad smile, large, white teeth and the broad nose.

He was a big man, round wire-framed glasses, messy hair and the dark olive-mahogany skin of someone who has spent years under the blazing desert sun.

A fishing rod, a can of Dreamtime beer and a quiet song saw Bruce through the days as he meandered through the world's timezones. He was hoping to meet up with his distant family in Britain the following summer.

.

Bruce was cheerfully grilling a couple of fish for his supper when Albus Dumbledore entered the Hog's Head pub in Hogsmead.

He was about to leave when the strange woman he had been interviewing about the Divination post at the school had fallen into a prophetic trance. Albus could feel the magical currents surrounding the woman as she spoke ...

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord born as the seventh month dies ..."_

The thoughts that passed through the old man's mind were confused, though he did decide to continue the Divination elective.

.

At that moment, Lord Voldemort was reading a report sent to him by one of his French contacts, an auror known only as Iacomo.

Voldemort had long held an interest in the field of Magical Law Enforcement, this being where most of the stronger wizards were to be found. He read the report of the retirement of Bruce Tuckerman, and the long list of his achievements.

_'The Bunyip rebellion ...' _Voldemort shuddered. He had seen a bunyip once. NOT pretty.

'_... took down a Muldjewangk single handed ..._' A quick look of a reference book, and the Dark Lord shuddered again.

'_... 23 Drop Bears ... I thought those were mythical. Dark Covens ... yes ... a "Yara-ma-yha-who" that had just taken down his partner. Nasty things those ... yes, this is a truly formidable wizard. I'm just glad he isn't in Britain.'_

.

The days and weeks passed and the war against Lord Voldemort was being gradually lost, all the time Bruce Tuckerman drew closer to Britain.

.

It was October by the time Bruce lowered the mast and chugged up the River Severn. He tied up in Shrewsbury and made his way to the small magical quarter of the town. A post office owl took a message to his distant cousins.

The meeting took place in a small, country pub. The tall, tanned Australian was met by a dark-haired man and his equally dark-haired wife.

"Mr Tuckerman, I presume? Sam Tucker at your service."

Bruce was aware of a wand being pointed surreptitiously at him.

"My apologies, Mr Tuckerman, but we have to be careful in these ... troubled times."

The Australian's nose for trouble was itching furiously. "Tell me more ..."

.

It was raining in Diagon Alley on the October 28th, and Bruce Tuckerman was sat in The Leaky Cauldron for the third evening in a row. He was a patient man, and he could wait for many evenings.

He felt the anti-transport ward go up as he heard the screams and shouts start. Less than a minute later and he was entering Diagon Alley.

Cloaked and masked figures were throwing blasting hexes and dark curses like confetti; cruciatus curses and killing curses flew like party favours.

Into this chaos strode a tall, dark-skinned man, all the while quietly singing a traditionally Australian song, punctuated by the occasional Aboriginal word.

"... camped by a billabong, under the shade of a coolibah _m'ronh'ran_. And he sang and he sat and _brahg'n'arah_ waited 'till his Billy boiled, singing _hrumm'hrrahh'h'g_ you'll come a waltzing matilda with _gh'osh'tamm_ me ..."

Death eaters fell like proverbial flies to the foreign magic - they could neither dodge nor, seemingly, shield against the ancient magics.

A scream. "HE's here!"

A tall figure, visibly disfigured through constant use of dark magics strode through the battle, nonchalantly flicking his wand to deliver cruciatus and killing curses like a teacher instructing a practical class.

Bruce Tucker's song changed subtly. He could see, from past experience that this was a Dark Lord who had taken ... precautions. Now, the cheerful ditty carried with it an undertone of a single line of deep, deep sound.

_brrrrahnnnnn arannnnnn arannnnnn ghurannnnnnn arannnnn ba'rannnnn h'rannnnn ..._

The aboriginal magic chant hidden by Waltzing Matilda stirred hearts and the hit wizard's hair. The last time he had used this magic was to destroy a bunyip that was terrorising Wollagaloogan near to Alice Springs.

As he drew close to the dark wizard, he recognised a the face of one of his mother's schoolmates. Well, not so much a school-**mate**, more an arch nemesis. Her stories of having hexed the daylights out of Tom Riddle a few times had started him on his career as a Hit Wizard.

.

"And he stuffed that jolly jumbuck into his tucker bag ... _Brannhrrrannn-ghrrahhhh-t'POH!_" Bruce stamped hard with his left foot and made a hammering motion with his left hand.

A greenish-purple blob of magic flew greasily from the Hit Wizard's wand and engulfed the Dark Lord that had been terrorising Britain. It splashed and oozed as Voldemort tried to fight it. He was screaming, albeit quietly, and the last thing he heard as he was digested by the Aboriginal magic was, "... YOU'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me ..."

.

Albus Dumbledore was confused. The dark lord was gone, and the several magical explosions that had immediately followed his demise spoke of magical protections gone awry.

"So tell me, Mr Tuckerman, what spell did you use?"

"Oh, an old Aborigine spell, it's actually designed for destroying all manner of dark and chaotic creatures."

Albus nodded. "I knew your mother - she put young Tom into the Hospital at Hogwarts three times, but, please bear with me, when were you born?"

The Australian blinked. "July the thirty-first, 1948. At about three minutes to midnight. Why?"

.

_A/N:_  
><em>30 Dec 2013 - a guest reader has contacted me to tell me that there is a similar tale told by Rojekera here on fanfic-dot-net - It even shares the title.<em>

_Naturally, I had no idea (having never stumbled across Rojekera's work). That tale appears to have been written at about the same time as this ficlet oozed onto my hard drive._

_So, now that you've read my story, go and read Rojekera's take on the same idea ..._

_ (fanfic-dot-net) s/8067869/1/Born-as-the-Seventh-Month-dies_


	31. 31 A Return to Omelas

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 31 - A Return to Omelas**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 31 - A Return to Omelas**

.

_A Crossunder with Ursula LeGuin's "Those Who Walk Away From Omelas," which is a highly recommended read._

.

.

Harry Potter was reading. Hermione had loaned him some books to keep him sane over the summer. She was a voracious reader, and had given harry a broad cross-section of her fiction as well as factual reading material.

Harry finished the book of short stories and carefully closed it before putting it down with a thoughtful expression on his face and an unshed tear in his eye. The final story in that anthology had affected him deeply - indeed, it seemed that it had been written with him in mind. The story that so moved him, a few pages only, was Those Who Walk Away From Omelas, by Ursula LeGuin.

It was a simple story about a utopian land that held a dark secret, a land of people whose continued happiness and prosperity hinged upon the continued suffering of a single child.

But there is nothing they can do. If the child were brought up into the sunlight out of that vile place, if it were cleaned and fed and comforted, that would be a good thing indeed; but if it were done, in that day and hour all the prosperity and beauty and delight of Omelas would wither and be destroyed. Those are the terms. To exchange all the goodness and grace of every life in Omelas for that single, small improvement: to throw away the happiness of thousands for the chance of the happiness of one: that would be to let guilt within the walls indeed.

Those who are unable to accept the price simply walk away from the city, never looking back - for them the price of happiness is too high. Perhaps the price for the wizarding world was too high, also ...]

Two hours later, and Hedwig left Privet Drive heading for Flourish and Blott's. She returned that same afternoon bearing a small, book-sized package.

.

The following morning saw Hedwig leaving once again for Diagon Alley and the twins' shop, only to return a few hours later with yet another package and accompanied by a less distinctive owl.

.

The tawny owl left Privet Drive that evening bearing a package, heading due west.

By the following morning, Diagon Alley was in ruins, Hogwarts was a jumble of fallen masonry and the Ministry of Magic was a 200 foot deep crater in the middle of London.

Indeed, the whole of the British wizarding world was wrecked.

.

The aurors assigned to sifting through the remains of Malfoy Manor found a curious thing: A muggle science-fiction anthology with a bookmark at the final story, a part-eaten birthday cake and a letter to a Mr Thomas Riddle, and signed your friend, Harry Potter.

Close to the strange find was a tall, handsome man, quite dead, with a faint smile still on his lips.

.


	32. 32 The One Who Lived

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 32 - The One Who Lived**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 32 - The One Who Lived**

.

**-or-**

**The Tale of The Drunken Mage**

.

It was Halloween and Albus Dumbledore was not a happy bunny.

No. he was, in fact, as unhappy as he could be.

The Leader of The Light was sick. Literally. He had come down with a nasty dose of Poppins' Disease - a magical affliction that affects magicals in the same way as the common cold affects muggles. And like the common cold in muggles, Poppins' Disease has no cure other than suffering and staying warm.

Albus was sat in his office, his nose swollen and glowing redly. Every few minutes, he performed what his brother described as the Foghorn Ritual - blowing his nose mightily with a great trumpeting sound and a shredding of his pocket handkerchief.

His eyes, bloodshot and sore, were squinting through his drooping eyebrows and tear-splattered glasses at nothing in particular. His head was spinning from the sneezing, his ears were ringing and the headache was making his hair hurt.

He took a mouthful of the hot toddy that his mother had always made. It contained cocoa, milk, cinnamon, honey, cloves, ginger and a generous dash of Captain Jack's Wizarding Rum.

It took him a few moments to understand that there was an unholy shrieking coming from one of the devices in his office. It took a minute to figure out which it was as his hearing was less than stellar at the moment.

It took another minute for him to decide what to do after he had realised that the wards at Godric's Hollow had been breached.

He created a portkey to the cottage where the Potters were in hiding, realising that apparation in his current state was ... inadvisable.

.

The house was a disaster area - the upstairs back wall was blown out and there was burning wreckage spread across the vegetable garden that James had been so proud of.

He entered the house through the newly expanded front doorway, spying the door where it lay against the kitchen door. He passed the last mortal remains of James Potter. Wheezing like an ancient bellows, he climbed the stairs, pausing only for his nose to be blown and for a couple of explosive sneezes.

In the nursery lay a rather furious-looking Lily Potter and an equally peeved looking Alice Longbottom. Neither was moving.

There in their cribs sat the Potter twins and the Longbottom twins, looking rather dumbly at the shredded remains of Lord Voldemort's favourite robes, and a rather singed-looking yew-wood wand.

The four boys were surrounded by their assorted plush toys.

Which one? Dumbledore wasn't sure which of the boys had ended the Dark Lord's reign.

He decided that he would use the tried and trusted method of letting fate decide.

He whispered, "ip, dip, sky-blue, who's it, not you ..."

.

A rather concussed and bleary Lily Potter opened her eyes to see the eye-watering robes of the powerful wizard, hearing his muttering as he performed some kind of ritual over the four boys.

At last he finished.

She croaked out, "Albus?"

The aged mage turned and smiled.

"Lily. Excellent. I have used an ancient ritual to determine who has succeeded in ending Lord Voldemort's reign of terror."

"Who was it Albus?"

The ancient mage frowned at Alice Longbottom's voice, and staggered slightly as he turned.

He lurched forward and picked up a plush toy, a black grim-like dog with a well-chewed ear. Alan Potter's 'Pa'foo'.

"Here is the Dog Who Lived," pronounced the rather inebriated mage.

.


	33. 33 First Words

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 33 - First Words**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 33 - First Words**

.

Harry Potter lay in the basket he had been left in when he was deposited on the doorstep of number four, Privet Drive.

He was feeling peeved. He was cold, hungry, uncomfortable and he wanted his mummy. He didn't like the lady who was peering down her nose at him, and wherever he was, it smelled funny.

The final straw came when a fat, red-faced man he didn't know started shouting at him. The man smelled of stale meat and smoke, and he had a revolting, hairy thing under his nose.

Harry reached for the man who slapped his hand away, hurting his pudgy fingers.

Screwing his face up in concentration, he thought about the scary man with red eyes, and the words he had used.

Pointing his finger at the nasty, red-faced man, Harry said his first intentional words, "_Avada Kavadra._"

.

Harry Potter lay in his crib. The nice lady in the uniform smiled at him and picked him up gently.

"Poor thing," she said, "to have lost your parents and then your aunt's family so soon after ..."


	34. 34 The Book of Quine

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 34 - The Book of Quine**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 34 - The Book of Quine**

.

A/N:  
>After publishing "Recursion" (Chapter 24 of this series), pfeil asked if I could manage a quine story. This is the best I could manage.<p>

**Quine**_ n. _A (computer) program that upon execution will reproduce its own source code.

.  
>Hermione was browsing the shelves in the library, looking for some<br>light reading, when her eye fell upon a slim volume - _The Book of Quine_.

She opened it to the first page and there was a pale flash of magic,  
>similar in colour to the text-copying spell that she used so often.<p>

Confused, she read ...

Hermione was browsing the shelves in the library, looking for some  
>light reading, when her eye fell upon a slim volume - <em>The Book of Quine<em>.

She opened it to the first page and there was a pale flash of magic,  
>similar in colour to the text-copying spell that she used so often.<p>

Confused, she read ...

Hermione was browsing the shelves in the library, looking for some  
>light reading, when her eye fell upon a slim volume - <em>The Book of Quine<em>.

She opened it to the first page and there was a pale flash of magic,  
>similar in colour to the text-copying spell that she used so often.<p>

Confused, she read ...


	35. 35 Corrosive Words

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 35 - Corrosive Words**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 35 - Corrosive Words**

.

"You won't need a quill, Mr Potter, you will be using a very special one of mine."

Harry picked up the black quill with its sinisterly shaped bronze nib. Not really a quill, then. A pen, of sorts. The ... thing felt greasy, rather like the diary back in second year - a sensation rather than a texture.

"No, you won't need any ink, either. The quill will provide what it needs."

"What will I be writing?"

"_I must not tell lies_ seems appropriate in the circumstances."

"How many times?"

"Until it sinks in, I think ..."

Harry began writing, feeling a sharp, burning sensation on the back of his off-hand.

He looked sharply at the Toad Woman.

"Was there something, Mr Potter?"

The simpering tone and the gleeful expression on the creatures face told him all that he needed to know as he silently looked down and continued to write.

There was a faint sizzling noise as he wrote, feeling the words being carved in the back of his hand, though the sensation passed quickly - more like being stroked with a hot pin than a knife.

Oblivious, Harry didn't notice the slight haze of smoke rising from the parchment as he wrote, as his blood singed the surface. He did notice that his words were becoming less and less clear, the nib seeming to become blunt and corroded.

At seventeen lines, the enchanted bronze nib dissolved entirely which elicited a shriek of anger from Umbridge.

"What did you do your wretched child?"

She snatched the remains of the quill and was rewarded by a large splash of blood - Harry's blood. It hit her in the face.

Screaming in agony with smoke pouring from where the blood had hit her, she slapped the desk and, incidentally placed her hand flat on Harry's lines.

More smoke, more shrieking, an endless cacophony of screams as the witch writhed in agony on the floor of her classroom.

Her movements became weaker and her screams became whimpers and finally bubbling moans. Eventually, all movement ceased, by which time Harry was sat, almost catatonic against the locked door.

.

Morning came and Professor McGonagall entered, having been told by Miss Granger that Harry hadn't returned after his detention with Professor Umbridge.

Her unlocking charm had been overpowered and, as the door swung outwards, she saw a blank-eyed Harry Potter sat, rocking slightly, staring at the half-melted and still form of the late Dolores Umbridge.

The acrid stench of melted flesh and burned feathers assaulted her nose and she had to hold down her gorge. A messenger patronus summoned both Madam Pomfrey and the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.

As they retrieved a traumatised student and the remains of the teacher, no one noticed the ash on the desk that had been, just the evening before, a parchment with seventeen iterations of _I must not tell lies_ written on it.

.

"Mr Potter will make a full recovery, eventually, but I am at a loss to know what happened to ..."

Pomfrey paused, deciding how to avoid the epithet she wanted to use.

She continued, " ... happened to ... the Defence Teacher. She would appear to have been exposed to a large amount of Basilisk Venom ..."

.


	36. 36 An End to The Manipulation

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 36 - An End to the Manipulation**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 36 - An End to the Manipulation**

.

A/N: Some stories featuring a dark, conniving and meddlesome Dumbledore leave me feeling pretty cheesed off, so I thought that I'd produce the cure ...

.

Albus Dumbledore sat pondering all that he had achieved, and in particular all that he had achieved in connection with his weapon. As he pondered he sucked contentedly on one of his special, un-potioned lemon drops.

True, he had all but drained the Potter vaults, but the weapon wouldn't need the cash since he would die at the hands of The Nemesis. All for the greater good, of course.

He had managed to get the boy potioned to the gills in order to get the Weasel chit pregnant ... the Potter properties would be a nice addition to Albus' portfolio. He had managed to convince the brat that the only way to defeat The Nemesis was to die taking the so-called Lord Voldemort down.

Albus chuckled at that. Lord Voldemort ... what a laugh, a completely controlled necromantic construct based around a revenant that Albus himself had created ... and controlled. Yes, his plans, decades in the making, were finally coming together. Once his weapon was dead, proving that the, and here he chuckled, the prophesy was complete and that the Potter boy was unable to take down the so-called Dark Lord, Albus would step in and finish the job.

He found himself chuckling at that.

As the defeater of two dark lords, he would hold an unassailable position in the minds and hearts of Wizarding Britain, and this time he would accept the position of Minister of Magic, or maybe Emperor of Magical Britain.

He was giggling and chortling by now.

He calmed himself and popped another lemon drop into this mouth, and considered how he would change the face of the magical world ... all for The Greater Good, of course.

He went over the whole thing again, laughing uproriously as he did so, telling his enslaved Phoenix his plans and chewing his way through his lemon drops.

He was feeling tired from all the laughing. He calmed down somewhat, occasionally chuckling to himself and decided to have a nightcap before retiring for the night.

He sat and poured a large snifter of Brandy, one of the century old reserve taken from the Potters' place in Godric's Hollow. As he sipped the brandy, he became quite comfortably relaxed, all the tension in his muscles draining from him as the warming alcohol entered his system. In fact he felt quite ... helplessly ... relaxed ... He felt something touch his ear.

For the life of him, he couldn't raise the strength to brush it away.

It entered his right ear-canal and a voice whispered in his left, "you have been a naughty, naughty wizard, Albus."

Albus felt a thrill of fear. He tried to turn his head, to rise, to find his wand, but ... he hadn't the strength.

The voice continued, "we laced your lemon drops when we discovered the enslavement bonds on Fawkes. Of course, you won't remember a thing in a few minutes, Albus."

From the corner of his paralysed eye he could see a very familiar mop of unruly, black hair.

"Harry? But why?"

"We know everything, Albus ... the two puppet Dark Lords, the plot to rule Magical Britain and then Europe ... your use of Nicolas Flamel's stone to keep yourself alive and unaging. The Goblins know, and have restored the contents of my vaults. Ginny, can take the pillow from up her jumper. She was quite upset with you, Albus.

"Of course, Nicolas was the one to brew the potion for your dreadful sweets. He is a Master Alchemist, after all, and you are but an amateur - talented but an amateur all the same."

"But they are ..."

"_Elixir_ of life, Albus. Not Balm, Potion, Posset or anything so ordinary, an _Elixir_. One dose is quite permanent. Nicolas and Perenelle are quite alive and well, and are looking forward to your ... punishment."

"What ... ?"

"Oh, that's quite simple. Have you ever read Gulliver's Travels, Albus? _The_ _Struldbrugs_?"

Albus paled, all sense of pleasure at his plans and dreams now gone. He lost control of his bladder, his right hand began to shake, a tremor he had never experienced before.

"Yes, Albus, immortal, unendingly infirm and mentally incompetent. Your body is already severely weakened by Nicolas' potion - his gift in repayment for your theft of the stone, triggered by the brandy. My brandy, Albus ... and now I will give you my gift..."

The last coherent thought that passed through Albus Dumbledore's mind was, 'oh shiiiii ... "

And then he heard the words _**cacoblivium horribilum**_, and he knew no more but his eternal now.


	37. 37 Portkey to Heaven

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 37 - Portkey to Heaven**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 37 - Portkey to Heaven**

.

Harry's return to consciousness was accompanied by the feeling of being tied to a gravestone, and the foul odour of Wormtail's halitosis. Halitosis that reminded Harry of the stench of the dragon back in November.

It seemed such a long time ago.

Vaguely, he remembered portkeying an injured Cedric out of the maze. That seemed like weeks past.

The maze. His mind wandered. A journey fuelled by the acromantula venom percolating through his system.

.

_Ron, angry Ron who had been publicly in opposition to Harry almost all year. Ron, who had tried to find out who was responsible for putting Harry's name in the damned cup. Ron had failed, but not for want of trying. Their secret meetings with Hermione, however had been ... enlightening._

_Ahhh, Hermione. Lovely Hermione who had done so much research in support of Harry's tournament efforts. Hermione who had helped Harry to make sense of the journals left by his parents._

_._

The giant, stone cauldron was starting to seethe now. Well the contents, anyway ...

.

_Seething ... yes, that's how Harry felt when Ron asked if Harry had been studying his family magic, and the trio realised that Someone, mentioning no headmasters in particular, Someone had failed to tell Harry about that little aspect of his life._

_Arthur Weasley had accompanied Harry to Gringott's to see about the inheritance that he should have been able to collect when he was twelve - the Family Grimoire and his parents' journals._

_He discovered that his family had invented the portkey charm - and every use by the Ministry of Magic netted him seven sickles._

_He had found the alternate variants of the portkey charm, and had been ... practicing._

_That had saved a life or two ... Lily Potter's medical portkey - a combined medical stasis and portkey in one charm, combined with a sticking spell. He's cast it on Gabrielle Delacoer's robes in the middle of the Hogewarts' Lake as the girl was turning blue and was obviously in a bad way. She arrived in the medical tent and was saved by Madam Pomfrey._

_._

Wormtail stubbed his toe on something and hopped around for a bit.

.

_Hopping. That described the peculiar spell that Harry's father had invented. A strange spell to make a pebble hop up and forward like a tiddly wink._

_._

"Bone of the father, you will restore your flesh"

.

_Harry's mind wandered briefly to the events of his second year and Gilderoy Lockheart vanishing the bones in his arm._

_._

"Bone of the idiot, you will vanish your legs," giggled Harry.

.

_Had he just said that?_

_._

"Flesh of the servant, you will restore your master."

Harry's freewheeling mind prompted him to mumble something about 'flipper of the worm' and self-abuse. His raucous laughter spoiled the whole _ton_ of the ritual.

Wormtail approached Harry, brandishing his knife.

"You'll only get acromantula spit out of that one ..."

Harry giggled as the blood was taken and tipped into the cauldron.

Harry announced at full volume, "frying tonight!"

The result of the 'fry-up' and harry had named it, stepped from the steam. A tall, unnaturally thin figure with no nose, a lipless mouth, pale, waxy skin and red eyes.

The reborn Lord Voldemort summoned his _faithful_ which was accompanied by a still-freewheeling Harry singing 'O Come All Ye Faithful' - off key, off beat and with random alternate words.

Voldemort was having trouble keeping his temper, since his mortal enemy didn't seem to be treating his resurrection with the _dignity_ it richly deserved.

Then came the dual. Voldemort made the mistake of having Harry released, given his wand and forced to duel against Lord Voldemort.

"Move back, and give the boy some space in which to face me."

_Space ... yes ...Harry's mind conjured up an image sent back from Apollo 12, a wonderful landscape of the Moon, an astronaut, the lunar lander and the Earth hanging low in the sky beyond. A peaceful place made all the more real by Harry's poisoned blood._

Voldemort instructed Harry to bow. Harry fell over.

"Oops. Sorry ..."

He picked himself up.

Voldemort cast a cruciatus and Harry dodged by falling over again.

he cast his _statioportus_ at a pebble, his mind not really connecting with reality, and that being the last proper spell he had thought about in his fugue state.

He put his wand behind the pebble and flicked it with the tip of his wand, casting the pebble hopping charm at the same time.

"_Hoppity_". The pebble sprang in the general direction of Lord Voldemort while a dozen others were magically skipped at him.

Voldemort shielded himself, but the shield only stopped magically propelled projectiles. One stone got through, flicked from the end of Harry's wand.

It stuck. It froze the Dark Lord mid-thought and triggered the portkey to the place Harry had visualised when he cast the spell.

As he finally lost consciousness from the venom in his blood, the medical portkey he wore around his neck triggered, taking him back to Hogwarts.

.

**Communication from Lunar Archeological Expedition, June 2157.**

From:  
>Cdr Frederick Montressore, Mission Archaeologist<p>

To:  
>Admiral Johnson, Mission Command.<p>

Subject:  
>Apollo 12, Historical Landing Site.<p>

_Admiral, we have discovered the space-dessicated remains of a non-human located some 50 metres from the base of the LEM._

_The remains are humanoid and somewhat reptilian in appearance. The lack of a space suit and the evidence of explosive decompression suggest that this race hay have access to force-field technology, and that said protection failed catastrophically._

_Lieutenant Potter has bagged up the remains for return to SpaceLab 5 for examination._

**End of message.**


	38. 38 At The Hand of The Other

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 38 - At The Hand of The Other**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

.

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 38 - At The Hand of The Other**

.

"You have been taught to duel, boy?"

Harry nodded. "Kind of..."

"Good. Then you will duel me... Wormtail! Give him his wand!"

Harry took his wand and faced the freshly resurrected Lord Voldemort.

"First we must bow."

Harry nodded peremptorily, offering the gesture but without courtesy.

"No, you will bow to me, boy!"

A feeling of blissful emptiness washed over Harry, but he rejected it just as he had Moody's imperius. If anything, Voldemort's imperius curse was less strong than Moody's.

"Get on with it, Tom, I'm not bowing to you."

Voldemort growled. "Then begin!"

Harry cast the first spell, trying to summon the Dark Lord's wand. Unsuccessfully, but sufficiently to cause Voldemort's fist spell, the cruciatus, to fly amiss and to hit one of the death eaters.

"_Bombarda_!"

Voldemort batted the exploding hex away and returned with, "_Avada kavadra_!"

Unable to dodge properly with his twisted ankle, the killing curse hit him in the arm.

Harry stood there, trying to get some feeling back into his hand which was filled with pins and needles, not truly realising that he had just survived the killing curse ... again.

He transferred his wand to his left hand. "_Accio Tom's Robes_!"

Lord Voldemort was jerked forwards, toward Harry, who was planning on getting up close and personal, since he was outmatched in magic.

As Voldemort arrived, Harry's right arm finally came to, and he crouched, waited and launched himself upward, powering his fist into Voldemort's solar plexus. He felt his fist enter behind the resurrected wizard's ribs.

The breath was forcibly expelled from Voldemort's lungs. His chest was filled with a burning sensation/

He couldn't breathe. Blood should have been pounding in his temples, a sensation he lived for, the feeling of power as his system was flooded with adrenaline but ... nothing.

The edges of his vision became dark. As his view of the world faded, he saw a green light burst from the famous scar on his nemesis' forehead. He felt his anchors to the world fading, and knew no more.

As Tom Riddle slumped to the ground, watched by his inner circle, Harry stunned Wormtail, dragging him beside Cedric's body. Summoning the cup, he was whisked back to Hogwarts.

.

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office. The end of the Triwizard Tournament had been an absolute disaster, but for one thing, Voldemort's final defeat.

He had asked Harry to share his memory of what had happened. He had watched that memory in his pensieve a dozen times, and he was sure.

"And either must die at the hand of the other... " He shook his head. "I never expected any prophesy to be quite so literal."

Shaking his head, he headed to his chambers. Tomorrow would be a new day, and a chance to finally build something good in the magical world.

.


	39. 39 Swallowdive

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 39 - Swallow Dive**

by Polydicta

The now obligatory selection of plot-bunnies, orphaned scenes, omakes and idiocy that sometimes bring my mind to a grinding halt. Ongoing warnings for smut, language, character death, bashing, torture, mutilation and reader brain-damage. Brain bleach recommended.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

**Author's Note:**

I thought that I had posted this one a couple of years ago. I could have sworn that I had. That'll teach me not to swear.

Anyway - here it is.

-::::::::-

**Hidden Tales From The Chamber Of Secrets - 39 - Swallow Dive**

.

Nymphadora Tonks was on watch-duty outside number four Privet Drive. She was on suicide watch, making sure that Harry Potter didn't do anything … silly.

It was less than a week since he had seen his godfather, Sirius Black, Tonks' cousin, die by falling through the death veil under the Ministry of Magic. Less than a week since he had learned of a prophesy involving himself and Lord Voldemort. Less than a week since his friends had been hurt, some seriously, helping him try to save Sirius.

It was less than a week since he had been possessed by Voldemort, too.

Albus Dumbledore, in his infinite wisdom and using the usual flawed logic that he applied to anything to do with his Ultimate Secret Weapon, Harry Potter, had decreed that Harry be returned to the loving embrace of his relatives (she knew precisely what that really meant - loving like a black widow spider …). Returned and isolated from his friends and allies.

Of course, the members of the Order of The Phoenix had decided to apply a slightly less flawed logic to the situation. The watchers were keyed in to a ward that Mad-Eye had cast over Mr Potter … a Dead-Man's ward, used by the aurors to monitor the life-signs of someone working under-cover.

.

It was gone midnight, and Tonks was starting to wilt somewhat. Her eyes were heavy and the air was chill under the light of the stars and a waning moon.

It was gone midnight, and the window of the smallest bedroom in the house swung wide. A shadow climbed out and down the downspout from the roof, spider-like in its speed and quiet stealth. If she hadn't been paying attention, she would have missed it.

The shadow resolved itself into the shape of a teenage wizard: Harry Potter. He was wearing his usual loose, ragged clothes and a pair of trainers held together with gaffer-tape and knotted string. He took a deep breath and started jogging toward Whinging-on-the-Hill.

Tonks followed quietly under the invisibility cloak loaned to her by Mad-Eye.

Twenty minutes of pavement pounding later, the wizard slowed and entered the graveyard of St Ansulph's church. The building was ancient, built of black flint cobbles with grey and cream limestone. The church-tower, a square block of masonry nearly thirty metres high stood starkly in the pale moonlight.

The few seconds it took her eyes to adjust from well-lit streets to the un-lit oasis of darkness in the centre of the original village were enough for her to lose sight of her charge.

A flash of a pale, bespectacled face in one of the small windows of the tower told her that Harry Potter was climbing the stairs of the tower. It took her a few precious seconds to find the cramped doorway, lost as it was in the stygian blackness of the north-side of the tower. She followed swiftly, as quietly as she could.

.

Tonks emerged once more into the dim moonlight to see Harry stood on the parapet of the tower, on the opposite side from the doorway in which she found herself.

There was an air of calmness about the teen, what small glimpses she had of his face as he walked along the stone wall told her of a deep calmness. A calmness that was disturbing. A calmness that spoke of someone ready to die - someone wishing for death …

The boy, no, the young man looked around the roof of the tower and smiled. He turned and dived from the wall.

Tonks rushed across, screaming the word, "NO!"

She looked over the wall and brought her wand to bear.

Potter had executed a perfect swallow dive, not a manoeuvre common amongst suicides, and that gave her pause. She winced as he made contact with the ground and blinked as he disappeared, leaving the short grass rippling out from where he had disappeared.

A few seconds later, Harry's head and shoulders emerged from the grass as he shook a few dry crumbs of dirt from his messy, black hair.

Somehow, he boosted himself out of the ground and onto the cobbled path surrounding the church, leaving the grass-covered surface unmarked.

He shook himself, more crumbs of dirt falling from his skin and clothes, as he turned and jogged out of the churchyard, turning his face once more toward Privet Drive.

.


End file.
